Before you became a mom, did you imagine what your life would be like with children? Of course you did! I bet it is safe to say, it is absolutely nothing like you imagined...probably a lot more messy and a ton better—most days. The issue I find myself having is: why did I think that I could keep a completely tidy house at all times?! I once saw a magnet that said, “Straightening your house while your children are growing, is like shoveling snow while it’s still snowing.” Can I get an Amen?! Problem is, I did that oh so stupid thing, you know, the thing we do, surely it won’t be that difficult for me. I am an expert at tidying, labeling, and all things organization—my closet is color coordinated for crying out loud. But I had this naive expectation before becoming a mom, that I would so neatly have a labeled, color-coded, and completely organized toy space and train up my children to gently place each toy back in the correctly labeled bin, after they were finished playing with them. I would always have a tidy house despite having littles around.
And then I had them—three of them—and I was wrong! Oh so wrong! I am at a strong deficit with three against one here! Just as soon as I clean one mess, they are creating another. To say that keeping a tidy house on the regular is achievable, for me, would be a lie. My Husband and I joke that they are little Tasmanian devils that tornado through our house, faster than we can even blink. It’s like they had a training course on how to master messing up the house faster than a hurricane can plow through the Atlantic. I have labeled the bins, sorted the toys, done all the back end organizational things, and yet, they never end up where they start. There are days I look around this place and think, dang it, why did I think this would be so easy?!? Then, inevitably, I find myself wishing the time away and yearn for less of a mess.
But then, moments in the mess, overflow my heart with gratitude, love, and joy. I wish those exact moments in time could freeze: the laundry is everywhere, I have a tricycle in my kitchen and it is hard to see the floor through all the toys. Walking past the tricycle in the kitchen, I cannot help but literally stop in my tracks at the sight of the little Toy Story figurines my middle son loves so much, lying on the back of his bike. My eyes fill with tears, thinking about how unbelievably blessed I am and how quickly this will all fly by. I find myself thankful for every little shirt to fold, and every little toy scattered throughout the house, that doesn’t make it back in the bin. There, I count my blessings of being a mother to those little tornadoes and in this season, I try to remain grateful for the mess! After all, there is plenty of time to have a tidy house when they are grown and gone!
