I am a terrible housekeeper. I haven’t mopped the floors, bar a few spot cleans, for months. I vacuum when I know people are coming over. The kids’ bath toys remain at the bottom of the bath long after the water has emptied. The rubbish-filled bin liner regularly outgrows its home, like a haemorrhoid suffering under pressure. Books, toys and washing baskets litter any available surface. Our kids, who are not well trained at packing up, leave cyclonic mess as they follow me from one room to the next.

Sometimes, the chaos overwhelms me. Sometimes, the invisibility of repeating a task that will again need doing moments later overwhelms me too. Does it count that I did the dishes four times already, if there are again dishes piling up after tea time?

But tonight, while cooking a below par tea, I thought about all of the important stuff we did today, even if the floors are still sticky.

We ate breakfast together. We built a pillow cubby. The kids played happily together, the kids fought, we worked on a solution (repeat x 100). There were some loads of washing done. Books were read. We had the happiness of friends come for a play. We did swimming lessons. We ate lunch together. We watched some tv. We played in the park. We painted – ergh, so much mess and they painted for three minutes. We made a treasure map and hunted for treasure. We made Lego creations. I laughed and growled – probably in equal measure. The boys helped Ash in the garden after work, I cooked dinner. We ate our tea together as a family. The kids were bathed. They had bedtime stories read. They were kissed goodnight and tucked in to the warmth of their beds.

Sometimes, what we do as parents can feel invisible.

Sometimes, we can feel invisible.

But sometimes, more than sometimes, it is the things you cannot see that are the most important.

The love you give, endlessly. The words of encouragement you offer. The lessons you teach. The worries you shield. The dishes you wash. The frustration you convert to patience. The qualities you model. The rhythm you bring, everyday -even when we’re not at our best.

There is a completely unravelled toilet roll running down the middle of our passageway. And for some reason tonight, all it’s making me do is smile.

Eliza xx

Less than flattering, but realistic, photo taken by Bobby.