Let me share a little secret that I rarely discuss with my fellow mom friends. Over the years, I’ve skillfully dodged conversations about this topic, often resorting to a polite smile and nod when it arises. This secret makes me feel somewhat out of sync with others, and I often sense it leads to unintentional judgment—though that’s never my intention.
But once you step into my home, my secret is immediately clear: it’s not messy in here. In fact, I would bet my tidy living space could earn Martha Stewart’s stamp of approval. There are no chaotic piles clogging my counters, and you can actually see the floor of my laundry room. My closets? They’re not overflowing with toys and linens, and my sink is typically empty, maybe just housing a few cups if I’ve been particularly rushed.
I’m a mom who prefers her home in order, and my penchant for decluttering often becomes a running joke with my close friend, Lily. She lovingly teases me about my close relationship with our neighborhood thrift store employees and my determination to unpack vacation suitcases immediately upon returning home. Being organized is simply part of who I am, and when I became a mom, structure and order became my lifeline.
When my daughter, Emma, was born, the chaos of new motherhood took me by surprise. Sure, I anticipated all the gear that would invade our home—our living room looked like a baby store exploded during those early weeks. I was ready for the noise, the mess, and the sticky fingers, but what I wasn’t prepared for was the overwhelming sense of lost control that came with it.
In those early days, I battled postpartum depression following a painful case of mastitis, and I now realize I was also grappling with undiagnosed anxiety. I spent countless hours weeping, devastated to discover that motherhood didn’t come as effortlessly to me as I had imagined. My once familiar life felt foreign, and Emma sensed my turmoil.
My anxiety only intensified my feelings of helplessness. Emma was a fussy baby, and I knew she needed some routine to help us both find our footing. Although I cherished my time at home with her, the days dragged when it was just the two of us and a baby who seemed to want to nurse constantly. So, I turned to what I knew best: organization.
“Go with the flow” had never been my style, so I admitted to myself that if I wanted to survive the whirlwind of early motherhood, I needed to bring structure to our days—and my surroundings. I started scheduling our days and sticking to that routine, taking control of our household through cleaning and organizing. Gradually, the chaos began to lift.
I finally gave myself permission to embrace my need for order. I recognized that I simply can’t thrive with random PTA forms cluttering my counters, and I’ll never be the mom who effortlessly goes with the flow.
So yes, my home is tidy, but it’s not to make other mothers feel inadequate. In fact, I admire those who can embrace the mess without feeling overwhelmed. I wish I could be the mom cracking jokes at girls’ night about how my bathroom resembles a Sephora explosion, but that version of me is riddled with stress and anxiety, which isn’t fair to my family.
I know there are other moms like me who cope with the stresses of motherhood by restoring order to their spaces at the end of the day. Some find cleaning to be a calming ritual, and others feel accomplished just by making their beds. A clean house doesn’t equate to being a “hands-off” mom, so those who think my tidy counters mean my kids are neglected can take a step back.
My clean home doesn’t imply I ignore my kids or that I’m a bad mother because I can’t joke about the laundry pile that’s been waiting for me. In fact, I often wait until Emma is asleep before I pour myself a glass of wine, turn on some music, and tidy up the kitchen. For me, order brings comfort, and if you’re a mom who thrives on cleanliness, then embrace it! I won’t judge.
Yes, my house is organized, and yes, my toilets are generally clean. I won’t apologize for doing what was necessary in those chaotic early days to keep my sanity intact and alleviate the anxiety that surged when we brought Emma home. Nor will I apologize for continuing to do what works best for my family now.
So please, don’t unfriend me just because my floors are spotless. After all, everyone needs a friend who will happily lend a hand when your basement is in desperate need of a deep clean!
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Summary:
Having a clean and organized home doesn’t make someone a detached mother. This article highlights the author’s journey through motherhood, revealing how maintaining order became a source of comfort amidst the chaos of new parenthood. The importance of structure and cleanliness for mental well-being is emphasized while dispelling the notion that a tidy home equates to neglecting children.