OCD to Struggling Perfectly

I am an only child, raised by landscape designer parents, one of whom is an OCD neat freak (sorry mom, it's true...).  I remember when I was little I would literally be grounded to my room for months until my room was clean.  It's true, my room was a disaster area.  I would spend many beautiful summer days at a time in my 9x13 room buried under mounds of toys, books, and clothes.  It's not that my room started out this way, but whenever I had to pick up my room, I would empty everything into a giant pile on the floor and start anew.  I would spend days rearranging furniture in my room, posters on the wall, toys and books on the shelves.  At the end of it all I would have a brand new room, freshly designed and everything in its new place.  My parents would be happy, and I would be outside climbing trees again.
     When I moved out my M.O. was relatively similar.  I would obsess in the Walmart paint aisle over all the beautifully bright colors.  Heading home armed with painting tools I would refresh every wall and dilapidated piece of furniture that I could find.  Mixing paint colors?  Sounds like a great plan to me!  Try out wallpaper? Cool!  Make furniture? You can DO that? Okay then, let's try it!  It was only me and my dog, Goliath...the coolest dog ever, may he rest in peace.  Carrying my mother's OCD in my neatly arranged mental backpack I would arrange my closet by color, sleeve length, and season.  But I still had the obsession of dumping things into the middle of the floor and starting anew.  Sure it was messy and things were in a constant state of redo, but in my mind I could just SEE what it would someday be.
     Now I own a home.  I own the yard around it.  I also own the six horribly messy children that live inside of it, God love them.  Bless their little hearts they can't keep a darn thing clean, but when they do clean I can see myself in them.  Kayleigh especially, has the obsession of making the giant piles of toys, clothes, and papers that I had...pulling from every nook and cranny in the room to make one horrific pile of "OHMYGODWHATHAVEYOUDONEINTHISROOM?!!?"  But leave her and Jolie in there for a few hours, and after much screaming and name-calling there comes a certain quiet...  And the room is clean.  It is perfect in my half-OCD, half-packrat eyes, and I am happy.  Gavin, on the other hand, used to keep his room eerily clean and organized.  Who is this child, I wondered, and where on Earth did he learn this?  But with Max's coming and growing and mess-making, my brilliantly organized oldest son gave up on the clean.  I understand this, it is what I have become.
     I am struggling perfectly.  I'll admit it.  How I loathe the messiness that having six small children brings.  I have become overwhelmed by the poptart crumbs, broken crayons, and endless reams of unrolled paper towel and toilet paper that festoon the hallways like a bathroom pirate's birthday party gone wrong.  The carpets are stained and stinky, the carpet cleaner defeated.  The laminate floors of the dining room smeared with dropped peanut butter sandwiches and spilled juice.  Ripped paper under the desk, under the table, in the middle of the floor...thanks to the littlest children in my house who think that paper is good for chewing and spitting out.  They're like little cows, chewing the older children schoolwork up and spitting it out like cud.  I thank Amana every day for the HE washer and dryer in my laundry closet.  They do overtime, washing both clean AND dirty clothes that end up in the hamper.  Because heaven (and Alison) know that if you wear something for 3.42 minutes and take it off, it's filthy and must be cleaned.  And I won't even begin to discuss the toys.  Toys everywhere, like Fisher-Price, Mattel, and Hasbro had a drinking game in every room of the house, and ended up puking plastic by the end of the night.  And for those of you who have had the pleasure of dining with us, which is an experience in and of itself, you know.......we NEVER have enough silverware.  Not that we started out this way, but it is how we have ended up after the Silverware Fairy swoops in and removes it all to the yard, which is another mess.
     Our yard is divided into many sections.  We have: 1)the part of the front yard that has not been landscaped and needs to be mowed, which is a pain, but at least we have a big yard, right?  2)The transitional part of the front yard that I have begun a flower bed in, and there's a pretty tree here, but you know, we could really use some more plants in here... 3)The microcosm of the front yard, right inside the L of the house, where the entrance is-it's finally perfect and I enjoy it here, the plants are beautiful and I wish I could magically morph the rest of the yard into this wonderfulness 4)The part of the front yard that surrounds the driveway that needs to have a few tons of dirt delivered to it so it can be regraded and the swamp-o-the-rains can be gotten rid of  5)The dog's part of the backyard, poor Charmin, having to live amidst broken toys and bicycles and trash the kids can't manage to get to the trashcan 6)The patio, which is often covered with chalk designs, more trash, and yard debris....and the grill, which may or may not be in the place we left it, due to the children thinking it doesn't 'look good' where we last had it, apparently... 7)The overlook at the top of the hill-an area that we would like to integrate into the backyard ala cozy firepit style, and I have discovered two redbud trees that I rescued from the hill-vines flanking either side of this area 8)The eroding part of the backyard that extends from right outside the living room window to the concrete pad the shed is on, which houses Adam's 4-wheeler,(and has been rendered, well, how can I say it, USELESS at the moment by the children having stuffed chalk, peanut butter sandwiches, and miscellaneous stuff in the exhaust chamber and gas tank).  9)The field, which is what I call the huge open area of the backyard...and is currently the plot of the new Ensinger Fortress (TM) to be completed April 2011  and eventually a swimming pool  10)The Hill From Hell (TM) that I have mentally struggled with for many years now, and physically struggled with last summer thanks to the city  and finally 11)The football field sized area at the bottom of the hill that we have no access to unless we install a zipline or an alpine slide, both of which are really cool ideas, but impractical financially...  All in all, the yard is 0.88 of an acre.  And yes, to bring up a sore spot again, all my silverware is out there...somewhere.
     I love my house, holey drywall, stained carpets, missing doors and all.  I love my yard, covered in trash and toys and silverware as it is.  I don't intend to soud bitter about any of these things.  I am grateful for my house, my yard, my family.  But the past few years have destructed these things to the point of "OH NO! WHERE DO WE BEGIN??!!! GET THE NAPALM! CAN WE CLAIM AN EXPLOSION ON HOMEOWNER'S INSURANCE??!!"  I don't know where to begin.  I have so many projects to do, and I find it very depressing at times that no sooner I feel like one is done and I am beginning another, the children have destructed the first.  So begins my ambivalence about the whole mess of it all.
     I am a subscriber to Better Homes and Gardens.  But I do not believe them.  Those people in those beautiful homes and gardens do not exist.  Especially the ones who are shown in their WHITE kitchens with their FOUR kids.  Really?  Not true.  You just had this home built and the yard landscaped, and this is your first day living here.  Where are all the papers they bring home from school?  Towels for decoration...really?  Cute little organizational systems don't work like you say they do, writers.  And do you people really separate your colors for the wash?  Really?  Quit making me feel inadequate!
     But I shall rise again.  I have my plans.  I can see how this is all going to look when I am done with my work.  And for now that is what keeps me reading, and planning, and drawing on my graph paper, and hoarding paint swatches and brochures.  It's what keeps me yelling at the children every day to "Clean up this house, dammit!"  For now I alternate between sitting on the porch or at the dining room table, drinking coffee and avoiding housework by playing with my phone or laptop and NOT sitting, but rather cleaning, cleaning, or cleaning.  I will eventually live in the house and yard that I dream of.  I will sit on the deck (not yet built, mind  you), drinking a glass of wine, watching my happy little children in their holey jeans and wrinkled shirts with filthy little faces (please, I don't expect my laundry routine to change!) play in the Ensinger Fortress (TM) and beating the crap out of each other as they do best.
     And eventually I will have pictures and a nice little blog like every other Super Mom on the face of the Earth.  I will post my stories and my pictures of my escapades as "the mom of six kids who is landscaping constantly and remodeling her home" and I will call it something catchy like "Four Egg(singers) shy of a Dozen, and we're all Cracked" or "Me, My Man, and our Six-Pack: Another Day on the Ensinger Ranch," or maybe even "Adam and Shannon: SEE what happens when you eat the damn apple?  DO YOU SEE??!!"  But I kid...and I must get to cleaning.  And someone needs a diaper change...and it's time to make lunch...and do I have enough time to go to the bathroom amidst all this?  I really need to go...