I’m Thankful For…My Messy House

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While celebrating the holidays, most of us spent time with our families and friends and actually took a few minutes to acknowledge what we are thankful for in our lives. I have to admit that life has kept me so busy lately that I don’t take enough time to realize everything that I should be thankful for.

Sometimes it takes a slap in the face from life – or a broken toe from kicking a 12 pound metal school bus – to make me stop and just be appreciative.

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This evening, I’m thankful my house is messy. You read that right. I’m thankful for every foot-long piece of train track, every toy with wheels, every book, and every toy that talks and plays music. You’ll never hear me apologize for my messy house… that’s like apologizing for living here. 

My house is messy because a little 2 year old lives in it. He’s walking around – I like to picture him spinning… like a tornado – playing and exploring everything around him. Things get pulled off of tables and put on different tables. Things get taken out of drawers and put in the couch cushions. Dishes get pulled out of the cabinets and strewn all over the floor. Things get put in the dirty laundry that don’t belong. Dresser drawers get emptied – every day. Toys get left in every square inch of the house.

I love finding Jase’s surprises all over the house:

A ball in the dishwasher. Marshall from Paw Patrol in the fridge. Tractors in the laundry room. Trains in the toilet. A half eaten tube of chapstick on my nightstand. A roll of toilet paper in the potato bin. His toothbrush in the fireplace. 

I love this mess.

Jase’s room looks like a tornado hit a toy store. Not just right this moment. Consistently. And you know what? I’ve given up trying to make my home look like it’s from the inside of a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. Oddly enough, I’m fine with that. It used to make me madder than hell when I would spend 6 episodes of Golden Girls cleaning Jase’s room just for him to come behind me and mess it all up again. But now, I’m lucky to get his bed made before he’s demolished his room worse than it was before I walked in.

And I’ve gotten used to the mess of toys that’s almost always in the background of all my pictures. I don’t have time to clear out a room full of toys just to take a picture of my kid while he’s doing something cute. I have to work tomorrow. 

His messes make me smile. Maybe not immediately, but eventually. I smile nonetheless. 

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I’m so thankful for this little boy and the messes he makes.

It may drive me crazy many years down the road… but for now, I’m going to appreciate every stepped on Lego, every kicked dump truck, every spilled cup of milk, every tripped over tractor, and every smushed cheese ball in the floor. Because if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have a mess to be thankful for.

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