Tuesdays are one of my busiest days. It’s the day I finish any projects I’m working on for Everything But the House, where I post weekly about repurposing and decorating with estate sale finds. I am usually running around with my hair in a messy top knot while Eli clings to me like a koala bear and Ada goes behind me, undoing whatever styling I’ve done to add her own spin on things.

This morning was no exception. I was shooting the new farm sign in our kitchen, which is hands-down the most difficult room for me to shoot. Why? Well, it’s the most lived-in room in our house and by lived-in, I mean never clean. Just ask Traci from Beneath My Heart. She came in to use the guest bathroom before we left for Cincinnati last week and I almost had to take a puff of my inhaler because I held my breath so long, hoping she didn’t break a leg on a toy or notice the pile of dishes by the sink.

I cleaned off the countertops first then started polishing the fingerprints away on the stainless steel appliances. Eli hates being more than six inches away from me so he was screaming at the top of his lungs from the Pack n’ Play.

Friend, I’m a writer. An empty office in the woods could be loud to me. Children…screaming. Oh my. This was essentially my reaction to the sheer volume in our house this morning:

I gave Eli a cookie, which helped and I made a mental note of this: Give boy food always.

But then, I turned around and saw Ada. Oh, Ada. My poor, neglected first child who so often gets ignored as I deal with my screeching second-born child.

That Ada. She likes to decorate.

She really likes to decorate.

I forgot to mention the other reason this kitchen is so hard to shoot. You see, every time I try to take pictures of this room, it’s cloudy. Every. Time. And when it’s cloudy, I’m fighting for light. When I turned around to see this interesting staging Ada had created on the freshly cleaned counters, the clouds parted and the sun lit up the kitchen in this glorious, buttery light.

And the cookie crumbled, so Eli went back to screaming. I finally had some good, natural lighting and this is what the kitchen looked like:

I would have cried but Ada looked up at me and said, “Like my styling, Momma? I tried to do it just like you do!”

I smiled. It must have been a weak smile because she took my hand. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m here to help. Everything’s going to be candy-dandy!”

And she’s right. Everything is just candy-dandy.

Thanks for the reminder, my sweet girl.