Used to Be the Guy With the Pristine House
Had a sick minimalist apartment before kids. Everything had its place, no clutter, dark furniture, looked like a magazine spread. Then kids happened. Now there's toys EVERYWHERE, walls have marker drawings I haven't cleaned yet, the couch is permanently stained with something I can't identify. I used to stress about this. Now I genuinely don't care anymore and honestly it feels freeing? My wife says I've become a different person about mess. I guess I have. Miss how clean it was sometimes but having a lived in home with actual memories feels better than a show room.
I feel this in my soul. I used to vacuum my apartment twice a week just because I could. Now I vacuum daily just to maintain some sense of sanity. The minimalist dream dies the moment a kid learns to eat solid food.