I'm trying to be okay with that pile of crumbs beneath the dining room table.
There are much more important things to worry about; my children, for example.
But I'm having a hard time being okay with it. I keep a small vacuum right beside my dining room table so that I can immediately suction the offending bits that my girls (purposely???) leave for me to clean.
If I tallied up all the time I spent thinking about those crumbs, or actually vacuuming those crumbs, or getting on my hands and knees to dig the sticky ones up with my bare hands.... well, that would just be a lot of time.
I can sometimes go a whole day without washing the dishes, or doing the laundry, or dusting, or cleaning the bathroom...
But those crumbs. They haunt me.
I think what it is, is that crumbs are a pretty easy fix. Especially when you have a vacuum plugged in and ready to go. When my days begin to feel out of my control, and my kids are running around like horror film victims, and my hair hasn't been washed in 3 days, and I'm still in my "comfy clothes" (aka, pajamas), at 3 in the afternoon, I can simply vacuum the crumbs, and I feel like I've accomplished something. I've fixed something that needed fixing.
I'm still hoping to one day be okay with a few crumbs, in exchange for a few more quality moments with my girls, or at least a more relaxed spirit. But until then, I suppose the crumbs, in a way, help keep me sane. And anything that helps to keep my sanity, is certainly a friend, not a foe.