I made the simplest, hardest goal this morning: to do just one thing at a time.

I was determined not to do ‘the usual,’ a scenario in which I: monitor the kids’ breakfast, leave it on the table while i check my email, get distracted by the kettle whistling for my French press, consider grabbing something to eat but remember that packing lunch for the day’s outing is more urgent, and then get distracted from lunch packing by the sticky hands needing washed and the restless morning-energy quarrels needing moderation. And it goes on and on ’till we leave the house, which looks a bit like we were forced to evacuate immediately leaving toys on the floor, dishes in the sink and crumbs who-knows-where, coffee mugs half-full and beds unmade.

That was not to be the case today. Now i’ll say this: I love a clean house. I really do. But the main reason i aspire to pick up before walking out the door is to create a feeling of “oh, it’s good to be home” for Brian when he comes home. At first this idea almost felt like a joke. The idea of a home inhabited by three small people and their various possessions and messes of natural cause, a wife who has a penchant for organizing the home by use of the proven “piles” method (hey, there’s free counter space!); a home with forest green counter-tops which is painted the landlord’s choice of yellowish, grayish and mint greenish shades; the idea of this home being inviting and welcoming felt impossible. And it’s not really about the bad colors; it’s really about us and the mess associated with us.

Yet, i have resolved to improve my follow through in these matters, and thus, this morning did make sure to wash every last bottle and breakfast dish before hustling the crew out to the pool. Oh, won’t it be beautiful, i mused. Brian will come home, see the tidy house and the best of last night’s leftovers left for him, and remember how very awesome i am. He’ll probably be itching to show his appreciation by providing limitless back rubs and watching a chick flick. I mean, it’s not like i’ve never cleaned up the house before, but i’ll admit to a tendency to leave a trail of destruction, especially in getting the kids out the door in the morning. (Thus the goal for this morning).

And sure ‘nough, when i called him around lunch time, he was on the way to a lunch meeting. I had the reactive thought that the morning’s labor was in vain. And i remembered, somehow, just then, the missing link: integrity. Doing things right, and not just for recognition. The “servant heart” that seeks a reward is really just a diva in disguise.