I like a clean-ish house. I was rushing around my kitchen this past week, trying to get a good cleaning in between work emails. I had about 30 minutes before I needed to leave and get Gracie from daycare. Counters: check, dishes: check, floor: check…and then I stopped.
I saw the smudges on the patio door, and I just couldn’t bring myself to wipe them. Sure, they are messy…but in them, I saw tiny hands. Tiny hands with little fingerprints unique to a toddler that was so excited to go outside, or straining to show me the birds just past the glass, she just couldn’t help but leave marks. These little marks were left as an innocent byproduct of pure joy.
I started to take stock of the other marks in my life that didn’t use to be there.
- The living room rug smells like clementines because unless you squeeze each piece and step on it, how will you know what happens?
- The upstairs bathtub needs to be wiped more often, thanks to rowdy nightly splash sessions.
- The Jeep kind of still smells like vinegar from the last bought with car sickness.
- I learned very quickly that washable crayons actually work…even when you chew them up and spit them all over the rug.
- I learned very quickly that washable crayons actually work…even when you color all over your comfiest chair.
- I discovered that I CAN make finger paint from flour, water, and food coloring. However, I CAN’T wash out said food coloring.
- I almost always have another human’s snot on my sleeve.
- My hairbrushes turn-up missing because they are actually meant to be shoved into the top of the hamper. Duh.
- We run out of apples really, really quickly.
Every extra mess that I have to clean, or thing of mine that is lost or changed, exists because the little person that lives with me is learning about the world through trial and error. Perhaps each mess or mishap isn’t completely random, but instead, is carefully crafted by a brain that is hungry and excited to learn.
It’s hard for me to fully change who I am and how I like things. I consider myself reasonably neat, and let’s face it, some messes are gross and can’t be ignored. And yet, things like smudges on our patio doors can probably wait to be wiped…at least for a while.
Maybe next time I see her pressing her little nose and fingers against the glass, I should pause my super important adult stuff and go sit next to her. Maybe I should let her show me what all the excitement is about. I’m not sure who said it, but this quote is in the notes section of phone, meant as a warning. I read it often. It makes me feel appreciative and terrified all at once.