Moms have a lot on their plates every day.
Parents have a lot on their plates and rarely get a break because they have to juggle numerous tasks throughout the day, such as washing the kids’ sticky hands and faces, folding their laundry, making sure they have breakfast and lunch, and getting them ready for school.
No matter how hard they try, there’s bound to be some kind of disaster waiting around the corner, like a glass of milk knocked over, a toy you accidentally stepped on, or a stain somewhere.
Few mothers can afford the luxury of a short shower before turning in or taking some time for themselves.
Some things we take for granted as parents are touched upon in a recent piece by Heather Duckworth, a mother who has been through it all.
The messes kids make as they mature before our eyes into the persons we’ve always imagined they’ll become are an integral part of that process.
It’s important to remember that our children will look back on the messes we cleaned up as adults and use those memories as the greatest testament to the childhood we gave them, so it’s worth the effort to find the joy in the midst of the chaos.
Regrettably, not all women get to experience the turmoil and clutter that children create.
Likewise, not all parents are able to enjoy the joy that children bring into their lives.
The popular post by Heather titled “The Blue Stain” resonated with many new and expectant mothers.
Heather’s heart started pounding as she scrubbed the grout her daughter had formed with the slime, remembering the disaster she had to remove all those years ago.
After a long day of running around after her two-year-old triplets and four-year-old older brother, picking up toys, and making sure no one got hurt in the piles of laundry she couldn’t finish that day, this mother would reflect, “My hands were full, but so was my heart.”
Before turning in for the night, Heather and her two sons danced to the radio while they tidied up the playroom.
Nobody could have predicted that it would be the last time they laughed so hard for a while.
It was just as she was settling in for a good night’s sleep herself that she heard one of the lads remark, “Uh, Oh,” and she saw the huge blue stain that would haunt her dreams forever.
The pen one of the triplets was holding burst in his grasp, spraying ink everywhere. His hands, face, and pajamas were all blue, giving the impression that the tiny boy was a smurf.
While she watched, Heather felt like a bad mother and began to get angry.
She hadn’t been angry with her son, but she did hold herself responsible because she had left the pen where youngsters could easily access it. Her feelings got the best of her.
“I gasped as I saw blue splatters across the floor and a thick pool of ink sinking into our carpet – our brand new carpet. I quickly yelled for my husband, who had been doing the dishes, to come and help me. I instantly felt so upset as I grabbed my son and took him to the bathroom to clean him up and my husband started scrubbing those bright blue stains on our carpet.”
Heather’s feelings of annoyance and fury would always resurface whenever she saw the stain on the fresh new carpet. All the wonderful times she had with her sons were symbolized by the stain until the day it was finally removed.
The youngster who spilled blue paint on the carpet was diagnosed with cancer a month later, and he died two years later, leaving the stain as a memento of their time together.
“It was still there . . . and now . . . it was a constant reminder of my son. It was a constant reminder of my frustration over something so trivial . . . something so unimportant in the scheme of life.
That blue stain was a constant reminder that life is messy, but that’s what makes it worth living. A constant reminder to not sweat the small stuff. A constant reminder that ‘things’ aren’t important, but people are. A constant reminder that accidents happen. A constant reminder to let go of the little things and hang on tight to what is important.”
She tried to cover up the vivid blue stain with the furniture, but every time she cleaned the room, there it was, staring at her, reminding her of her loss and the sorrow she was still feeling.
Heather’s story is meant to remind us of how often we take life for granted and fail to appreciate the little things that give our lives meaning. She feels the need to inform all the moms out there that the dirty laundry and strewn about toys are what really make the house a place of comfort and safety for their families.
Those messes, made by the people who matter most to us, are what make our lives worthwhile, as Heather puts it, because there will come a day when we will miss those moments very much indeed. “I would have a million blue ink stains on my carpet if it meant I could have one more day with my son.”
Her advice to moms: don’t let yourself get so wrapped up in the world that you miss out on quality time with your kids. Life is too short to be wasted scrubbing stains, so prioritize what matters most!
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I Brought My Fiancé to Meet My Parents — He Fled in the Middle of the Night, Shouting ‘I Can’t Believe It!’
I’ve been with my fiancé for six years, and we were supposed to get married next month. But during a visit to my parents, he discovered their secret lifestyle, causing him to question our relationship too.
I’ve been with my fiancé for six years, but we’ve known each other for nine. We were supposed to get married next month, but then everything changed the course of our wedding journey.
We went to visit my parents to introduce him to more of my extended family before the wedding. My parents offered to host us, and we’ve been staying in my old room for the sake of nostalgia.
My fiancé, Adam, wanted to stay at a hotel, but I thought it would be fun to just have him share my old room with me.
“I don’t see why staying in your childhood home is going to change anything,” Adam told me when we were packing for the trip.
“Because it’s going to be my last time with my parents under their roof before I become a married woman. It’s going to be a sentimental moment,” I replied.
“If it gets uncomfortable, I’m just going to check myself into a hotel,” he said casually.
Of course, I didn’t expect what would happen next.
We got to my parents’ home, and everyone was excited to see us. My mother and aunt had cooked up an elaborate meal for us, ready to just sit down at the table and get to know Adam better.
All through dinner, everything went as well as expected, and Adam happily enjoyed having the attention centered around him.
“This is new for me,” he said as we did the dishes in between the mains and dessert. “I’m not used to having people pay attention to me like this.”
“It’s a good thing,” I said, handing him a plate. “You’re supposed to feel welcome and at home with my family, too.”
As the night died down and we all went to bed, ready for a good night’s sleep before the following day’s family outing to the local theme park, Adam kept disturbing my sleep.
“What’s going on?” I asked, turning to face him.
“I just can’t sleep, Sasha,” he snapped. “It’s not my bed, and I’m not used to sleeping in beds that aren’t my own. And your bed is lumpy and uncomfortable.”
“Just go and take a walk outside,” I grumbled. “The fresh air should make a difference, and you’ll come back and fall asleep.”
“Fine,” he said, getting out of bed and leaving the room.
I was just about to fall asleep again when Adam’s scream pierced the air. I bolted upright in bed with my heart racing.
What on earth was going on? Was there someone in the house? Were we in danger?
While my brain was moving a mile a minute, trying to decide what to do next, Adam stormed back into the room.
“What happened?” I blurted out, uneasy.
My fiancé’s face contorted in a mix of horror and anger, and he paused for a minute before he started yelling.
“I cannot believe it,” he yelled. “Your mom! Sasha! Your mother! She’s kissing another man in the foyer!”
My heart sank. I had hoped that we would have gotten through this entire visit without this.
If anything, I had always dreaded this moment, the time when my parents’ unusual and unconventional marriage would come to light.
I tried to explain, to calm him down, but he wouldn’t have it.
“Call your dad, Sasha,” Adam demanded. “Tell him that your mom is cheating right here in your own home.”
It seemed logical, simple even. And I understood why Adam would think that having my father involved would solve everything.
But he couldn’t be further from the truth.
Before I could react and begin navigating the explanation, my mom walked in, still straightening her clothes.
“I can explain,” she started, but my fiancé cut her off.
“Explain? What’s there to explain? You’re cheating on your husband in his own home!”
“It’s not cheating, darling,” she said softly. “Sasha knows, and she’ll explain it all to you. Shaun and my marriage is different. Very different. It’s unconventional compared to your usual marriage. You need to understand that, Adam, before you judge us.”
Adam turned to me, eyes wide.
“You knew? You knew about this, and you didn’t tell me?”
I tried to reach out to him, but he recoiled.
“I didn’t know how to tell you, and I’m not proud of keeping this secret. But it wasn’t mine to tell.”
“Sasha!” he said, his hands in the air. “You should have told me! This isn’t something that you just keep hidden from the person that you’re going to marry. I don’t know if I can trust you now. This was a setup, wasn’t it? You wanted to introduce me to this lifestyle, isn’t it?”
By this point, I was overwhelmed, and I couldn’t understand what Adam was getting at.
I was taken back to a memory from my youth. I was 16, and my friends were planning a sleepover at my home.
“You have the biggest room, Sasha,” my friend Brielle said. “Let’s have it at your place.”
“That’s perfectly fine with me,” I said. “I don’t think my parents will mind at all! And we can watch movies in the living room because my parents have a TV in their room now, so they won’t disturb us.”
“I’ll bring my cotton candy machine,” Brielle said excitedly. “We can have that and popcorn!”
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I remember going home after school and telling my mother all about our plans. She smiled and nodded enthusiastically.
“Sure, honey,” she said. “You girls can take care of yourselves. Dad and I have a dinner that evening.”
Little did I know that later that evening, I would discover the truth about my parents’ marriage.
My friends and I were all sitting on the couch when my parents walked in with another couple. My mother was holding tightly onto a man’s hand as she kicked off her shoes. My father was kissing the other woman.
When they saw me, they were shocked. And they had no choice but to explain the situation to me.
“We are married to each other, and we love each other. We’re committed, honey. But we’re also allowed to see other people if we want to,” my mother explained gently. “There’s nothing wrong with the way we are. And you need to understand that.”
Now, listening to Adam, I was taken back to the same flood of emotions.
“No, it’s nothing like that,” I said. “I am dedicated to you. I don’t want that lifestyle.”
But Adam wasn’t having it. He just wasn’t listening. Instead, he began to speak about his mother’s infidelity which had led to his parents’ divorce. It all made him see betrayal everywhere.
“Everything is a red flag for me, Sasha.”
He packed a bag and left for a hotel, saying that he needed a moment to reevaluate our engagement.
I spent the rest of the night crying, feeling the weight of my parents’ choices crashing down on my own relationship.
“You need to talk to him,” my mother said, giving me a cup of coffee. “Just go to him.”
I joined him at the hotel. We barely spoke, the silence heavy with everything left unsaid. I didn’t know if Adam still wanted to be together or not. I suggested that we move to my grandmother’s house for the rest of our stay so that we could talk about everything while still being comfortable.
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s okay with me because this hotel is too cold anyway.”
There was a coldness between us that hadn’t been there before.
“I’ve never kept secrets from you,” I told him. “I didn’t know how to bring it up. It’s not something that I like talking about because I struggled to understand it myself.”
Adam sighed, rubbing his temples.
“I get it. But this feels too close to home, Sasha,” he said. “I just need some time.”
We spent the rest of the week at my grandmother’s house, trying to finish the family visit in the best spirits we could muster. My parents apologized to Adam, but it didn’t matter anymore.
It wasn’t about them. It was about the fact that their actions had triggered my fiancé. On the drive home, Adam and I decided that we wanted to stay together and see where life took us.
“But I think we need to go to therapy,” I said, handing Adam a drink.
“I think that’s a good idea,” he said, biting his lip. “Because I need to uncover my own trauma before accepting your parents.”
Now, Adam and I have started talking about everything. From his fears, my shame, our future. We could only heal from this.
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you.
My Entitled Parents Demanded That I Give Them My New House — My In-Laws Suddenly Stood up for Me
When Carina’s parents kick her out after high school, she has no choice but to navigate her way around life. Years later, after making a success of her life, and her wedding is around the corner, she reaches out to them, only for them to storm into her life, trying to take ownership of what she has worked so hard for.
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