Bless this Mess (and Accept the Rest)

Let’s talk about mess, shall we? The mess that seems to follow in a trail behind our kids. Socks, shoes, legos, wrappers, sweatshirts, and numerous other things. We spend much of our time trying to teach our kids life skills by consistently reminding them to clean up, pick up, tuck your shirt in, make your bed, and for the love of all things…pick. up. your. damn. LEGOS!!!

Bless this mess.

At least, that’s what I’m trying to tell myself. It is important we teach our kids these basic life skills of cleaning up after themselves, helping others, pitching in around the house. It is important they understand they are not the center of the universe, and all others are not there to serve their every whim and need. BUT. But it’s also important for them to enjoy life, enjoy their childhood, be allowed to get messy, be messy, love the messy. Wait. Maybe I’m telling that to myself. Anyhoo.

I guess my point is this. So much of parenting seems to be walking this tightrope between teaching and living. Guiding and wandering. Coaching and letting go. It’s easy to get caught up in the ‘rules’ of raising good, tidy, organized, little citizens that we take the fun out of everything. Don’t get me wrong, organized and tidy aren’t necessarily bad. But being organized and tidy isn’t ALL we should be. What happens when we are most focused on being organized and tidy? We become fun haters. Yes, we do. We become so focused on the outcome we forget about the journey and the fun had along the way.

This is where that tightrope comes in, right? We don’t want to raise our kids to be slobs. We want our children to be respectful of the spaces and people around them. But is a child really living and enjoying their childhood if every single item is put away in its proper place most moments of ALL the days? What are we teaching our children when we spend minutes upon minutes writing and crossing off to do lists? What are we teaching our children when all moments of the day are scheduled and calendarized (that is a word you know, at least in my dictionary)? What are we teaching our children when we ask them to spend most of their days avoiding puddles, not getting their hands dirty…stay out of the mud, clean your room, pick up your clothes, wipe your face, comb your hair…whaaat? You’re wearing that shirt again?

Or am I the only one that gets caught up in this rule following?

I like order. It’s true. Those that know me are probably laughing. out. loud. right. now. Because I like predictability and planning. I like to know what to expect. Order = good. Chaos = anxiety. My home is not clean at all times. But it’s usually got some sense of order and tidiness. Not labeling all drawers and bins kind of tidiness. But books and magazines are at least stacked in an orderly fashion, vs. spread out across all countertops, tables and couches. The bed? Made every single morning. Why? Because I cannot. I repeat. I CANNOT get into an unmade bed. It throws all my senses off, gives me shivers, makes me tense. I have to make that damn bed. Then leave the room. I just can’t. When I worked outside the home, my desk wasn’t clear of all clutter, but what clutter was there was in neat piles, ready to be filed (not that filing ever actually happened). So you get the point. I like order. No…I NEED order. Or my anxiety creeps in, and almost takes my breath away.

But my 12 year old son? Well, he isn’t…how should we put it…quite as concerned about tidiness as I am. He’s okay with papers oozing out the sides of the desk drawers, blankets sideways and hanging off his bed. He’s okay with LEGOS EVERYWHERE. He can live, for days, with LEGOS E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E. Do you see what I’m saying?

Usually, I let him keep his LEGOS out like this for a day. Or maybe two. And then, I harp on him endlessly to pick them up. Why? Because. MESS!! It’s assaulting my senses! But then this week, I tried something different. See, I kind of had one of those A-HA moments. While doing laundry, no less. I know. Weird. Who has A-HA moments while doing laundry? This girl. That’s who. Listen, if you’re open to them, they can happen at any time.

So anyhow…I’m doing laundry and was switching a load of this boy’s clothes from the washer to the dryer. I shoveled the clothes in the dryer, started it up and walked away.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

I kept hearing something bouncing around in there. So I opened up the dryer sorting through his clothes and found the culprit. A Tootsie Pop. Closed the dryer. Started it again.

Clank. Clank. Clank.

Open dryer. A plastic army guy and a Nerf dart. Ugh. Why can’t little dude take things out of his pockets? I was frustrated. Thinking now there’s Tootsie Pop goo all over my dryer and melted army guy plastic too. GAH. I shut the dryer and let it finish. Swapped loads and started the dryer again. And threw the partially melted items in the trash.

CLUNK. CLUNK. CLUNK.

For. The. Love. What now? Second load of his clothes and more crap from his pockets? Open up the dryer. Shove clothes from side to side. A packet of Sweetarts and a mini tape measure. What? Yes. A freaking tape measure. With a built in level. Crap. Total irritation. Closed the dryer. And started it up again. Why can’t he simply empty his pockets and put this stuff away, I thought to myself. Shaking my head, I marched out the laundry room.

Then it hit me. I ran back into the laundry room and pulled all of the pocket remnants out of the garbage can. These things that had been in his pocket? They’re like sweet little treasures from a time capsule of his youth. And one day, I won’t find these teeny delights in the dryer. One day, I won’t have as much laundry. As I pulled each one out of the garbage can, my eyes filled with tears. Suddenly, the next six years flashed before my eyes. Soon, he’d be gone. And the house will be quiet. And lonely. I gathered the items and put them in a plastic bag. Usually I am quick to eliminate and throw out the clutter of broken toys and things, but I decided to keep this little baggie full of treasures. Knowing that as the years pass, I’ll look back on them with a smile and be thankful for the clutter. Thankful for the mess they caused. Why not start trying to appreciate that more now?

A few minutes later, I brought some of his clean clothes up to his bedroom. Even more LEGOS, if that’s even possible, strewn across every square inch of his bedroom floor. My breath sped up a bit. This assault on my senses of a million tiny pieces on his floor, started to cause a bit of stress. But…the mess. Bless. I stood there, laundry basket on my hip, staring at all these pieces. And I smiled. I’d let this mess sit for days. I didn’t once ask him to pick it up. Because, really? He’ll have years and years to pick up, clean up and organize. Why not let the kid be a kid. Why not let the LEGOS cover the floor. It is his room after all.

I realized in that moment I’d finally come to peace with a little chaos. I’d come to accept this mess. Love it for what it is and all it represents. Of course I need reminding of this. Often. It’s a practice. So I created this little prayer:

Since I started reciting this prayer and being intentional on how I look at the ‘messes’ of my life, I’ve felt a sense of calm I didn’t have before. A sense of letting go and letting be. It’s helped me live more in the moment. Appreciate the imperfect and all of the beauty it’s wrapped in. It’s provided perspective.

And that’s a beautiful thing.

DISCLAIMER: I am NOT a parenting expert. I am NOT an academic who has studied child rearing (as if this wasn’t CRYSTAL CLEAR already). I’m just a mom, looking to find peace in her days and rest in her nights. And so if you’re all up in arms right now, feeling like my parenting has no discipline and I’m raising my child to be a slob, well…you might be right. Or you might be wrong. But really, it doesn’t matter. Sometimes…along the way on this parenting journey, when I learn something I think could help others? Well, I share it. You don’t have to agree with it. You don’t have to like it. You don’t have to try it. But what good is my story and my lessons in life, if I don’t share them? But seriously, try saying this prayer; use it as a mantra. Repeatedly, in moments of stress or anxiety. And tell me…did it help?