I walked into my boys' room to change their sheets and I sighed deeply.
It happens a lot. My boys can't quite close dresser drawers or get their socks into the laundry basket (so close!).
I picked my way through legos and detritus and sighed some more.
At such times I think, "What would I give for perfect Pottery Barn Kids bedrooms, all neat and tidy?"
But closely on the heels of that thought, what would I give up in exchange for pristine bedrooms? I'd have to give up really complex creations.
|this kind of stuff has to be kept together for at least a few days...Mark knows that, I know that|
I'd have to give up evidence of long hard study (study that gives me hope for that future day when this kind of focus will be applied to story problems in math...maybe?).
I would have to correct the habit of clandestine reading at night that I officially frown upon but secretly delight in.
I would have a little boy that doesn't sleep in a nest of animals that end up (uncomfortably I would guess for the animals) wedged between the rails of his bed.
I could be discouraged by this room (and I sort of am).
Or I could appreciate it. Relish the time I have with these boys of mine and their disheveled ways. Someday the legos will be in boxes, never disturbed. The drawers will be securely shut and the socks will be elsewhere, wherever they've taken them. It will be far sooner than I want to contemplate.
I'll be grateful today for messy boys. I'll be grateful for creativity and a behemoth tuba and a boy who loves to read and socks that are still in my jurisdiction.
I'll (try really hard to) keep a patient note in my voice when I tell them for the hundredth time this week to CLEAN YOUR ROOM.
Because someday, I won't have to tell them.
They'll be gone.