At any given point of any given day, my house is scattered with a variety of plastic containers–old (empty!) pill bottles, forgotten Parmesan cheese containers, long since used toothpaste tubes; basically anything that has a lid that goes on and off. My son’s recent fascination of an old milk jug (well-washed but still ick) lays slightly squashed in the middle of my kitchen floor, the top tossed casually to the side. Typically, you’ll find or, more accurately, trip over two brooms and a Swiffer that are askew across the floor of any room of our house (I’ve even stumbled on them in one of our bedrooms), leftover from my toddler’s fleeting effort to help Mommy clean. Yesterday morning, I found Buggy covered hair to chin, fingertips to elbows with smears of chocolate ice cream. Even though the empty ice cream carton was abandoned appropriately in the garbage, the ever inquisitive Bug braved the smelly trashcan to explore the sticky carton. I became quickly unpopular when confiscating the messy toy.
A few nights ago I had to interrupted my husband’s workout routine to share with him a “sticker” that a friend had shared on Facebook.
Both Jesse and I erupted in uncontrollable laughter because the saying could not be any more true for us. Our living room floor is regularly scattered with dog food, often making it a treacherous journey into the next room, and a box of bread mix currently perches on the bathroom counter. We live in constant chaos but it’s okay. It’s okay that our home is frequently more than slightly messy because our sweet one is happy. Darling Buggy makes a mess not to be a menace but because he is exploring and learning. Nothing makes the little guy happier than honing his finer motor skills by taking tops off containers and then figuring how to put them back on. Our house is a mess so that our tiny fellow can thrive.
Just moments ago, little Bug came running into the kitchen giving me a crooked, toothy smile because he managed to find Mommy’s perfume bottle…and it has a top! (don’t worry, it will be confiscated since it’s not empty) It’s hard to be frustrated long about an imperfect home when your sweet baby is happy. But now I must bid adieu. The rugrat has figured out how to open the dishwasher and is now “helping” put dishes away….too bad they’re dirty dishes!