My Sanctuary

I have begun this quirky habit of making my bed. It began when I finally took down the Pack n' Play basinett, that was becoming a collect-all for dirty clothes, spare computer parts, and random pieces of mail. I went through and cleaned and rearranged the bedroom. I even changed the bedsheets. It was clean. And spacious. I didn't want to leave it.

Now, why would anyone in their right mind, with five children, three of which can turn over the rest of the house within five minutes, tops, bother to make her bed everyday? Because it is the one...the only...thing that I have control over.

Tonight I will turn out the lights on the toy littered floor, and the laundry couch (you know...the designated couch where the clean laundry gets dumped until one has time to fold it.) I will walk past the kitchen sink...which was cleared this afternoon, but now holds empty bottles and dessert dishes...and a random piece of bologna that Irelynn decided she no longer wanted. I will step over the ginormous pop-up tunnel that Irelynn set up in the hallway...walk past the bathroom where my preteen daughter's cosmetics and hairbrush still stand on the counter...and enter my clean, uncluttered room. I will close the door and for a few moments...a few wonderful moments....feel like I'm in control, stress-free, and organized.

Of course, the next morning I will walk through the door, and the colors will be brilliant, munchkins will declare my arrival, and the full impact of last night's tornado will be revealed. But tonight....for tonight....I'm going to pretend it is all a dream.