May 14, 2010
Do you think you’ve dealt with messes in your life? We throw it out there all the time: “My son’s room is a mess,” “The yard is a muddy mess,” “Our finances are a mess,” “My life is a mess!” Well, living is a messy business, no doubt about it. And as a daycare provider, I happen to work in an environment where lots of living is going on. So you have messes? I just can’t feel sorry for you. Today, for instance, I cleaned up the following messes:
· An economy-sized container of goldfish flakes, gold and orange and deep purple, and spilled in such a way that they floated into a bunch of little containers of toys which all had to be emptied and washed.
· Green peas and macaroni and cheese, dropped on the floor by two twisty toddlers, and then smashed by tiny pink and brown sneakers and transported across the kitchen into the carpet.
· A bloody nose, not immediately reported, but instead allowed to drip on the table and be wiped across cheeks and onto a t-shirt while the bleeding individual continued to calmly finish her picture of a purple snowman (now accented in red).
· The entire shaved contents of an electric pencil sharpener, which I knocked off the counter and onto the newly swept floor. To be honest I will have to admit I did not clean this one up. There are still pencil shavings all over. I hope they will drift away.
· The bathroom, where I sent a little lady who is going through that rite of passage we call potty training. She had a mishap, and I told her to wait for me there while I went to fetch her clean clothes. I think it’s unfortunate that potty training must be accomplished during the “I do it myself!” phase because, of course, she didn’t wait for me. She did it herself. If I were one to use four letter words freely, I would use one, and it would give you a strong visual of what I found all over her and the bathroom.
Add to all of that the fact that my nose is sniffly, my hair is impossible (that always figures in with me, doesn’t it?), and I’m behind in…well, everything, and it equals a resounding confirmation, yes my life is a mess.
But what does that mean? The goldfish flakes toppled over as one of my littlest ones balanced on tippy-toes with her nose pressed against the fish tank, delighted by the world inside the fingerprint-covered, algae-speckled (i.e. messy) glass. “One, two, four fit-chies,” she counted, making sense of the numbers and colors and wonders around her in this messy world.
Pulling crusty macaroni out of the carpet is a small price to pay for the skills that were learned at the lunch table today. We aren’t born knowing how to spoon peas onto our own plate or how to pass the macaroni to our friend. It takes balance and coordination to clear the table and wash your cheesy face. Mooshed peas are one more step on the road to independence.
I rinsed blood from a t-shirt, sanitized the table, and admired a purple snowman, just like the artist knew I would. That she remained calm and focused until she was done is a testimony to how secure she is in the fact that I am here; that I will help her and love her. Whenever she’s ready for me to. Her confidence in me makes me proud, for giving her a foundation from which someday she may create a purple masterpiece that hangs in a museum. Or paint her house purple and just be happy.
The pencil shavings were knocked over because I grabbed the “Morning Meeting” bag from the counter, behind schedule as usual and in a rush to get to the “fuzzy carpet,” where some soon-to-be Kindergarteners where waiting (not too patiently) for me to play “Hicky Picky Bumblebee.” Silly little chant. Teaches them phonemic awareness, without which they will struggle to read. The pencil shavings can wait.
My life is a mess because living is messy. I wouldn’t have it any other way. What about the bathroom you ask? Undeniably describable only by the use of an obvious four letter word. I had to take a deep breath and count, let’s just say much higher than we count at “Morning Meeting.” Then I searched for some more appropriate four-letter words. The first one that came to mind was mess (more like MESS). I knew I could do better. I gazed down at the dark curls of the do-it-yourselfer, as she bent diligently to the task of pulling her socks over her freshly clean toes, and found the words I was searching for: work, grow, live.
