I love this mess. I love this chaos. I love these little mess makers.
I don’t mind being locked away from the world with them.
The world feels scary.
Here, together, we feel safe.
They drive me crazy, sure. They expend all of my energy, sure. But they also sprinkle love and joy and bliss everywhere they go. They make me laugh and cry and scream and hide and dance. A unique and precious mixture of responsibility and excitement.
These energetic kiddos create fun and distraction. I love the games they create, the projects they imagine, and the way they look at the world with fresh eyes and motivation.
They play and imagine with no worry about the outcome or the consequence. They run and jump and pretend. They help me forget about the unknowns and stresses of the world.
They create a meaningful mess. A mess that demonstrates the memories made and the chaos consumed. A mess that symbolizes creative learning, time together, and fun.
This is motherhood. It’s a mess. It’s imperfect and raw and engrossing. It’s loud. It’s overwhelming. It’s full of difficulties and also full of amazement. It’s full of love. It’s full of emotion.
I love this chaos. I love this mess.
It’s ours. It’s what makes us, us.
And today, together, it feels safe.
Chaotic and messy and safe.
