Remember that song from Sesame Street?
When I went into my bathroom last night to take out my contacts and wash my face, I saw something that seemed both out of place and right at home to me. Amongst all my face washes and astringents, contact case and cleaner, soaps and scrubs, right next to my jewelery box, was one of my sons’ little Army Men, just sitting, paused, ready for battle, should I engage him.
It made me giggle, not only because it was funny to me, but also because another friend posted on Facebook that very day about the trail of things her own kids leave behind.
A LOT of the things the kids leave behind in a trail get in the way and can be and are annoying – shoes not put back in their correct places, toys pulled out so that my house looks like a Toys R Us threw up in it, stickers that have lost their stick on shirts and skin, but for some reason stick really well to my wood floors, dried up drips of food and drink peppering that same floor, crumbs that would make Hansel and Gretel (my inspiration behind the name for my dog, Gretl – because I would name my dog after a girl who went to a candy house) proud, enough books to fill a library and a huge bookcase, but aren’t in that bookcase and instead are in every room on the floors, pages from books that Smalls has ripped out (we are working on respecting literature), little, tiny footprints from little, tiny, wet feet, fresh out of the bath, little things that should be chucked in the bin but aren’t because they are tiny, special, little treasures to my Bigs and Smalls. These are the things that are littering my floor. Does the OCD side of me want my china cabinet to have pristine, crystal clear, fingerprint-free glass? Yes. But the Mommy side of me always wants those little prints there, and on my front windows, and in the dirt on my truck. And all those things that have taken over my home… I will miss. When they aren’t there, I will want them back. I will look very fondly on these days. I want to keep those reminders of my two precious blessings, those memories forever.
So while I’d love to someday have a house that looks like it belongs on the pages of Southern Living, I’m going to tuck that dream away for a little while. For now, I’d love nothing more than a house that looks and feels like there are two very loved boys living and thriving inside of it.
Life is so very precious. Moments come and go so quickly. The days of having your small children at home are so short compared to a full life. I am going to enjoy them, embrace them, and welcome them.