Today we spent a leisurely Saturday morning as a family; what a precious time. My husband vacuumed the dead goldfish carcasses and pretzel parts out of my car while my daughter and I painted a huge cardboard box that came in the mail earlier this week. She loves to paint (hence why we had a painting party for her birthday), but she’s not a very neat painter. In fact, at one point she was inside the box painting with her feet. She paints with her fingers and toes as much as a paintbrush, if not more.
We cleaned up a bit from the paint, and then decided to play with bubbles. I have a whole bin full of bubbles and wands from her first birthday, so we got those out. We turned on the bubble blower and blew our own. When my daughter began to pour the bubble solution out and rub her hands in it, I nearly stopped her. We were just getting so messy. And then I realized that she was having a lot of fun and a little mess really didn’t matter. I mean, we can always clean it up.
When is it that we become so obsessed with not making a mess? Why do we stop ourselves from having fun and enjoying life because we don’t want to clean up later? How many opportunities to experience life have we missed because we were avoiding a little disorder?
I want to be comfortable getting a little messy in my life – whether it’s pursuing relationships, trying new things, or simply playing with my daughter. The experience and the memories always end up being worth the extra time and effort.
Photo: Painting with feet (2007) – This one isn’t actually from Saturday . . .