So, yesterday I mentioned that I was hoping for more messy outdoor time for my girls today. They are such agreeable and thoughtful girls. They found the one little remaining spot of standing water/mud, and they really delivered.
They jumped and stomped in the mud. They splashed with sticks.
Miss got a little on her face, and freaked out momentarily, but recovered well when reminded to just wipe it on her sleeve.
Lass was largely unperturbed by all the mud she was getting on herself. Once in a while she’d turn around and point, as if to say, “Hey, I think I’ve got something on my face!”
She also held up her hands a few times and said, “Wash?” though when informed that we couldn’t wash without going inside, she happily went right back to her puddle.
Miss was a little concerned by how dirty her sister was getting. She said, “Let me see your face, Muddy Girl.”
Then Miss declared she was going to make “Muddy Soup.” Her Daddy requested pepper and garlic in the soup, to which she declared she would add cream, butter, and sugar. Yum.
We had a grand time and sure did make a mess today. I have no problem with outside messes. Outside, my girls can get as dirty as they want. Who cares if the yard gets dirty or messy? The only thing I have to bother with, generally, is their clothes, and those wash (yes, these did all come miraculously clean). So I find it kind of odd that I struggle a little bit with indoor messes. I have to regularly remind myself to lighten up when we are doing things that are a bit messy inside. Now, I don’t care about toys getting messy. Our house looks like a tornado hit it every day until bedtime when Miss does her chores, one of which is cleaning up toys. No. Toy messes don’t bother me. I tend to get a bit uptight about other kinds of messes. Play Doh. Paint. Glitter. Etc. I make myself tolerate these things and try really hard to embrace them. And typically I find that when I do, I have tons of fun and realize the mess is no big deal. Like tonight.
Miss tested me with indoor messy tonight before bed. She decided to play with the plastic eggs that I have in an Easter basket on our counter. Yes, I have Easter decor up in our house already. I was afraid I wouldn’t put it out if I waited too long and Baby Sis arrived before I got it out. So anyway, we have an assortment of Easter decorations around the house, one of which is a fairly large basket with plastic eggs in it. Under the eggs is a whole bunch of that paper Easter grass stuff. Miss decided to dump the whole basket out on the floor, multiple times. That grass stuff was everywhere. I started getting all antsy about it, but I took a deep breath and told myself to chill out. Then Miss brought the “grass” up on the couch where I was sitting. It was in my hair and her hair, stuck to our clothes, in my couch cushions, all over my rug in the family room and the floor in the kitchen. But you know, once I started really playing with it with her, I stopped caring about the mess we were making. Miss made “hair” and “hats” out of the grass. We used strands of the grass to make mustaches and giggled while we tried to arrange our mouths so they would stay in place. She made lots of “toys” for her Baby Sissy, which she lovingly constructed, described to me (“tiny ball,” “snake,” “thing to put her thumb through,” “headband,” “mustache,” etc.), and then placed on my belly. It was precious.
I sometimes wish I could be like those moms who are totally laid back about all the different types of messes of childhood. That I could get out the really good crafty stuff, like finger paints and glitter projects several times a week, instead of my more boring stuff like stickers and crayons. But, I yam what I yam, and I do always try to grow and to stretch myself, like by telling myself to chill out when a relatively minor mess starts to make my heart flutter, my hands sweat, and my face flush (just kidding, I don’t get quite that freaked out about it). I’m getting out the Play Doh and the dot markers more and getting ready for another painting day. I’m really enjoying the girls’ increased interest in helping in the kitchen in spite of the increased messiness it brings. Childhood is messy. I love the outdoor messiness. I’m working on bringing my outdoor attitude about it into the house.
I’m getting there.