As summer has rolled on full force, I have come to another startling conclusion. My kids outnumber me three to one and it is impossible to clean my house while they are all home. Even if they were old enough to be outside alone, it's too hot to send them outside to play for any length of time.

I have attempted to distract them with crafts, movies and a multitude of different activities but it never fails that as I am cleaning one room, at least one of them is destroying another room. My 19-month-old, Sadie, has discovered my makeup drawer and, with her excellent gross motor skills, has learned how to apply eye shadow and mascara. Her 4-year-old sister is obsessed with anything in a bottle and will not be happy until every bottle in our house is empty.

This week I was frustrated, at a crossroads and vented in an e-mail to my friends that my house seemed to get dirtier the more I cleaned. My friend Stacey replied, "Remember the saying, something about…the dust will wait but your babies won't!" So, I made a decision to embrace the mess. I considered getting "The dust will wait but your babies won't," or "Embrace da Mess" tattooed on my body. I was that committed to letting it go.

I quit picking up constantly behind my kids and made everyone pitch in for a few minutes before bedtime. But I was overwhelmed by the clutter. I thought about calling "Hoarders" or "Clean House," but you could still kick a pathway through the house and I didn't think I'd have a real chance against those people who have flattened cats under all their boxes of stuff.

On Friday, my medical saga continued as I headed to Jackson for an outpatient procedure. I spent the afternoon resting and was in the bed at bedtime when my two oldest girls came running into my bedroom and yelling, "Surprise!" and pulling my mother behind them. My eyes welled up with tears; I'd had such a rough day I didn't even remember to tell her not to walk across my kitchen floors barefoot or to wear flip-flops in the shower. I was overwhelmed with the sense of peace and happiness that is only available when your Momma is within arm's reach.

I awoke at my leisure on Saturday morning and walked into a sparkling clean kitchen; the washing machine and dryer were clacking away in the background and my mother started cooking my breakfast as soon as she saw me. While I ate my hashbrowns and eggs, I was filled with hope that one day I would again have the energy to clean my house -- and if my mother is any example, I'll also have the energy to drive long distances to clean and cook at my daughter's houses.

It was encouraging and for a second I was extremely glad I hadn't rushed out to tattoo Stacey's quote on my body. Aside from having to see the tattoo 20 years from now and thinking, "Oh my word. That is sooo 2010," it turns out the original quote is a little bit longer. I have plenty of room for it, but I would imagine in the next twenty years, there won't be a surface on my body smooth enough to read.

"Cleaning and scrubbing can wait for tomorrow, for babies grow up, I've learned, to my sorrow. So, quiet down, cobwebs. Dust, go to sleep. I'm rocking my baby, and babies don't keep."-Author Unknown

(Robin O'Bryant is a former Mount Pleasant resident and mother of three. Read her blog online at www.robinschicks.com or e-mail her, robinschicks@gmail.com.)