Welcome to my summer house

I have coined my own term to define the status of organized living, or lack thereof that we currently have around our home. It’s simply called, “summer house.”

HeidiMorrisProfile1croppedSummer house means grass and dirt chunks endlessly seem to gather on the floor. Summer house means that unfinished art projects linger in various locations and piles of shoes create little mountains by each door. Summer house means that all the daily cleaning I generally get to while the kids are at school gets half done, making it even more irritating to see a partially completed task than if I hadn’t even started it. Have I mentioned I’m excited that technically summer is halfway over?

The other night I frustratingly stated to my husband that I am sick of “summer house,” and he knew exactly what I meant. Not because he is tired of it too, but because he has heard more than a few of my discontented rants concerning the mess. I find it slightly ironic that my definition of a “summer house” is exactly the opposite of most people would consider that phrase to mean. To people who aren’t living under my roof “summer house” typically exudes the idea of relaxation and vacation. It’s a getaway, a break, and a place to be worry-free. Not so for me. My “summer house” makes back-to-school ads look like beautiful artwork.

I know my complaining is petty and this is a silly first-world problem that frankly I’m blessed to have. I’m downright lucky really to even have these awesome messy “mini-me” creatures running around causing havoc to my carpet lines. I know it’s reasonable to expect things to be out of order, and I’m probably the only person who it bothers. And in the traditional meaning, a “summer house” isn’t somewhere you will always be, so I should just accept the change for what it is.

So as you look around at the beach towels decorating your deck, the extra dishes in the sink, and the little piles as you go up stairs, remember this too shall pass. Embrace your summer house for the moment. If it’s out of sorts like mine, know that life is being lived, the outdoors is being enjoyed, and memories are being made. And smile, realizing that in six weeks you’ll probably be crying like I will, noticing how quiet and boring the home always is when fall arrives.

Laugh a little more, clean a bit less, and relish having your own summer house.


About Heidi Morris

Rochester Hills mom of three. Loves life, loves family, loves to share new and interesting things with everyone. Contact her today at heidikmorris@yahoo.com


  1. I really enjoyed this article, I can truly relate. Thanks, Rebecca

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