Messes & Memories

A mom’s life is a messy life. Want to know how I know all of those glamorous, fashionable mom photos we see on the Internet are fake? I’m a mom. That’s how I know. Thank God (seriously) for my co-worker Ann. She’s had to do the ol’ wink & nudge a few mornings when I have shown up to school with baby boogers on my shirt or peanut butter finger prints on my pants. The number one thing parenting has taught me: most things are washable.
Tonight has been one of those nights when I’ve sat back, stared in shock and awe at the disaster that is my home and remembered that it just doesn’t matter if the bed is made or if the floor has been vacuumed or if…wait for it…there’s blue paint all over my kitchen room floor. These little rascals of mine sure have fun, and I hope they look back on their childhood with fondness.

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I’ll be honest, the messes can be hard to handle. I don’t do well in chaos, and I have a difficult time sleeping knowing there are dirty dishes left to clean. But after a day of dealing with cranky teachers, rambunctious 12 year olds, and writing lesson plans, sometimes all I can do is drink a glass of wine and watch an episode of Paw Patrol with my two favorite toddlers.

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Remember to relish in the little moments. Nobody, including yourself, will remember the ten extra minutes you spent scrubbing the crockpot, but those minutes spent reading, cuddling, and singing are what memories are made of.

From my mess to yours,
The Displaced City Girl

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