Let Me Tell You About My Mess

Allison Nazarian Love Your Mess

My mess is messy.

So is yours.

These are truths. As in, they are indisputable.

You may have your shit together. You may have a clean desk (I do). You may have the paper in the paper recycling bin (I do) and the other stuff in the other stuff recycling bin (I do) and you may have regular oil changes and tire rotations on your car (I do).

 

But you still have a mess.

I know this for certain.

In fact, the only people who do not have a mess are those who no longer breathe and live among us. As in, those who are no longer living. As in, you will no longer have a mess when you are dead. Not before then.

Messes come in all shapes, sizes and flavors.

Like the kind I have piled up in my sink right now (I hate unloading the dishwasher, like passionately hate it. In fact, I may get married again just to have someone unload the dishwasher daily and free of charge. (OK, that isn’t true, but you get the point.) It piles up when the dishwasher is too full of clean stuff to be loaded up with dirty dishes.

Or the dog hair that has taken over every nook and cranny in my house. (To hide that mess, I replaced the white tile that covered the entire first floor of my house with a rich-colored dark wood-type floor that hides enough of the black dog hair to keep my sanity in check.) Yea, I am that weird.

Or the people at my daughter’s school bus stop that annoy me every morning with their inability to park or drive safely. In fact, my annoyance has become so great that I now do the same stupid things they do to beat them at their stupid bus stop game. Who does that make the most stupid? Probably me and thus I have decided to drive to school for the remaining 2.5 months of school. (By the way, this would fall more under the “Avoid Your Mess” category than the “Love Your Mess” category.)

Yea, my desk is neat and my house is closer to immaculate than disaster, but I cannot tame the freakin cords in my office, I have papers half-a-yard high for filing, I have not yet done my personal taxes (waiting on some form I haven’t received) and maybe someday I will put all of that breakable stuff from my grandmother’s apartment on eBay (yea, right).

I am at a standstill of my own doing in my quest for a book agent (see background on this mess here.) Not a great place to be for someone who likes to be in control of her own destiny and deplores waiting on others.

I probably should figure out why I wuss out hold back when it comes time to launch some big stuff. I have some really cool things ready to go but that haven’t yet seen the light of day. Hmmmm. I see a ridiculous amount of many people out there who are all-hype and so little to back it up. I am, or so it seems, the opposite. Or that is the story I tell myself.

Along those lines, is it weird that I sometimes wish I were a little less substantive or maybe a tad more ignorant (because ignorance is bliss, right?)?

While we are at it (and we were, right?) my grocery-shopping-and-planning-for-dinner skills are worse than ever and still going downhill. We had Breakfast for Dinner last night, which is always awesome, but, tonight we need Dinner for Dinner and I don’t see this happening. Once, when my son was little he told me, “Mommy, you make the best noodles with butter in the world.” At the time, I was proud and thrilled. Now, as I near 40, I realize this is not exactly the legacy I was seeking.

Speaking of kids, I have one teenager and one almost-teenager. What I am realizing is that there is quite a nice run for most parents from the time they are out of diapers until the time they turn 11 (girls) and 13 (boys). This nice run leads to a little complacency: (“Motherhood is so much easier than those other Moms say….my kids are old enough to play nicely in their rooms, no more temper tantrums, they do their homework on their own, their friends are sweet and all is well in my world! I have this all figured out!“). Unfortunately, this complacency is hit way upside the head come the teen years and all bets are off. Someone somewhere is laughing their ass off at me. As well they should.

If you know anything about me, you know I am all about talking and writing about loving our messes. Do I love all of this? Well, I would rather a sink devoid of dirty dishes and I would welcome a healthy dinner whipped up by someone other than me waiting for us in the kitchen at 6pm tonight, but yes, I love it.

It is mine.

It isn’t messy enough to hold me back from anything.

Sure, I could make excuses (and I do) as could you (and likely you do, too, sometimes), but at the end of the day, there is nothing you cannot do, be or have even as your mess grows or expands or lives.

Nothing.

So go do one thing you couldn’t or didn’t because [fill in messy excuse here]. Pick one mess and resolve to let the energy you are devoting to it either die or be put to doing something about it right now. Heck, buy my Love Your Mess book right now while you are at it.

The messes don’t hold you back. Ruminating about and agonizing over the messes hold you back.

And something tells me YOU aren’t someone who should be or was meant to be held back.

I’m right, aren’t I?!

 

What about you? What’s your big mess?