Sometimes I get so obsessed with my house being just so. I want everything to be picture perfect, clean, organized, not a thing out of place. Then Ivy comes to visit and that all goes out the window. At three she is a hurricane on ten cute little toes. I love everything about her, including the mess she makes.
Every time I have little ones at my house I let them make a mess. Their parents usually get worried and start following them around, picking up, straightening up, trying to rein in their little ones. I say let them go, there will be plenty of time to clean when the babies are done growing.
I remember as a child going to my grandmother’s house and nothing was off limits. If I wanted to wear all of her jewelry, I could, if I wanted to play chef with her pots and pans it was ok with her. My fondest memories of my childhood are just being a kid at Nanny’s. My grandmother truly knew how to stop and smell the roses, even when those roses consisted of two little girls standing on her coffee table singing into hairbrushes.
She never fussed at us and never followed us around cleaning up after us. As a child, that was heaven.
At home Mom was always busy cleaning and wiping and reminding us to take off our shoes and to stop making a mess. I was like that with Hailey too. Now that I’m older I know my housework will always be there but these little ones that I’m lucky enough to get to enjoy for a few hours at a time, they will go home, and the house will be quiet again. I’ll have plenty of time to clean then.
So while they are with me we will make a mess, paint in the kitchen, splash in the bathroom, wash the dog, paint the sidewalk with water, tear paper, whatever they want. My housework can wait, these babies, their childhood waits for no one.