let them be little.

I have found myself giving up on the fact that I cannot force Noah to use the potty. He is his own person, and even though he loves his red underwear with cars and trains on them he won't keep them on for too long. He is three years old, and I have come to the conclusion that he may be in diapers for a lot while longer, and I'm not going to stress on this.

He has the concept of knowing why there is a toilet in the bathroom, but he still won't sit on it. I'm sure he'll eventually get the picture.

I'm not going to force or beg him to use the potty. He is a petite little boy, and I don't mind the size four diapers...for now.

Aside from the difficult potty training, and constant diaper changing, I find him constantly setting his trains on the piano. Whether they are on the piano or train track it makes no difference to me as long as he is content and having fun. 

In between the daily potty training struggle, and the playing of trains on the piano he'll approach me with those big dark eyes, and ask me if he can have a banana or an apple. I look at him and am amazed with his politeness in asking me if its okay to eat a piece of fruit. I'm sure he hears me telling his sisters to rash and limit on the fruit because it's not cheap.

He'll later then tell me that he's hungry, and he'll direct me to the pantry door with childproof locks saying, "c'mon mom, c'mon." I open it and then he'll point at the tapioca pudding, honey bunches of oat cereal, and cheetos.

I allow him to choose just one, okay two...okay he actually had all three. Exactly in that order. Pudding, cereal, and cheetos.

I remember when my firstborn ate cheetos for the first time I got so upset because she got all her clothes dirty. I don't even recall if she ever asked for a napkin. Noah will almost always asks for a wipe, and instead of using it in on his hands I'll find out later that he used it to clean the couch where he wiped his fingers on.

When I realized what he was doing I couldn't help but to laugh. Not that it's okay to wipe dirty hands on anything, but the fact that he was cleaning pleased me. I also know that my patience with kids getting dirty has gotten better, and I don't get mad anymore. I know that this is my domain, and as a mother I get to choose whether or not it's okay to make messes, and I choose-okay. 

The feeling I get looking at my little boy making all kinds of messes such as finding crumbs tucked in the couch, spilt milk, and dried up cereal on the floor doesn't matter to me anymore. I remember when he did that for the first time when he was a little over one years old, and I didn't mind.

I have to give credit to my mom for being a woman of cleanliness. I learned from her to be clean, and that mopping, scrubbing, and sweeping is a form of therapy (and very good exercise.)

I also had to teach myself that as a mother raising a boy, having messes is okay too.

I never had a chance to be little and want Noah to experience all the different types of mess, and fun there is out there. Whether it's putting rocks inside his red coat while playing in the park, splashing in puddles without rain boots, playing with dirt, disassembling his train track with toys all scattered around, I just want him to experience all kinds of happy!

He is my only boy right now, and I am going to let him be little for as long as he wants. 

a messy house can be a happy house.

"Excuse the mess...the children are making memories."

For the past 17 years in every place I've lived at I've always been a bit of a neat freak, and meticulous with how my house looks. They say the spirit dwells in a clean home, and I do believe that it does. It's just that lately with Noah being two he is as boyish as they come. Climbing on walls, coloring on the walls. Climbing on the piano, and chairs. Scooting the chair so he can gain access to anything and everything in the kitchen which could be dangerous. We have a wide entrance into the kitchen that I'd have to make my own childproof gate big enough to guard it. Luckily we do have childproof locks on the cabinets, and refrigerator, but he's figured out how easy it is to hold down the white gadget, and open it. One great thing he has done is throw away the trash in it's proper place instead of throwing it on the floor, or underneath the armoire waiting for one of his sisters to pick it up.

What I've come to realize is that messes are okay. I don't have to tidy up the toys that are scattered all around the living room floor every ten minutes, or neatly put away the flip flops in the corner entrance. I actually like the image of a slightly clean living room with colorful toys scattered around. Our house isn't too big, and our living room is the only place in which we entertain, and are entertained by our daughter's musical talents.

playing with dad

the living room in which the girls entertain guests, and themselves!

It doesn't bother me that as I'm sitting on the couch, I can see a cheerio, or a part of a banana peel underneath the armoire (even if it's black and hard!) I don't immediately pick it up like I used to. I will eventually, but if I'm in the middle of doing something with the kids I'll wait to clean it up. The coloring on the walls. Hey...they can always be painted right? Cover it with wallpaper right? Use a lot of scotch erasers right? Hardwood floors can always be swept, and polished right? There are so many alternatives in how to recover from your toddler doing his artwork on the walls.

Noah has gotten a lot better at throwing the trash on his own in its proper place, and if I happen to step on a cheerio or a pretzel on my way to the kitchen... that's okay. It'll get swept up eventually (or get eaten up by some critter.)

There have been many times when I've had an unexpected visitor and my house wouldn't be as tidied up as I'd like it to be. They'll comment that my house is so clean, and it makes me feel good knowing that they are saying that when they've accidentally stepped on a flip flop as they enter in while Noah is on the living room floor playing with his toys.

Truth is that I'm such an organized person, and because I don't have much furniture (our pianos are our furniture), or knick knacks there really isn't enough to clean up. People probably wonder how we manage to live in our house with four children. "Very easily" I'll say. I've just taught them by example, and we don't buy everything under the sun.

We've been in this house for four years now and the Bishop asked us the other day if our basement looks the same as we moved in (meaning if it was still bare, and if we have accumulated anymore boxes) I said, "yes Bishop...it still looks the same, and no we haven't really accumulated anymore boxes!" He was surprised and seemed very impressed! Apparently he saves things, and doesn't really throw anything away. We've moved so much in the past, and the fact that I was raised in a small house with a very neat mother...I have learned to be organized, and to only live with the necessities of life. I am teaching our kids to do the same thing.

Still...I want our home to be a clean haven while they build memories. I want to teach our kids that being messy is okay at times, but being clean, and organized is even better. I always want to have the spirit dwelling in our home. I want those who come into our home to feel warm, cozy, and happy. I'm sure that having a few crumbs, and cheerios on the floor won't make them want to leave.

After all...the authenticity of a family is what makes a house a real home. 

The Prince of messes

Having seen my mother interacting and playing with her only grandson brought me great joy while she was here. It warmed my heart, and I often wondered if she wished she did that more with me and my sister while we were toddlers. I don't remember stuff I did as a two year old, but my mom did mention that I was nothing like Noah. She calls him 'The Prince' because she saw how much his sisters, his dad, and I spoil him. He definitely is one spoiled little boy. I try not to let him get away with anything, but sometimes I can't help it. He's so cute, and when he does something naughty I can't help but to sometimes laugh. I hold it in because I don't want him to think it's too funny to the point where he'll think it's okay to do it over and over again!

My mother on the other hand didn't mind his small messes. Especially the ones he was making at the table. Still... I don't think a Prince would make a mess like this. We had stopped at Mcdonald's and I had a quarter pounder without cheese. I also took out the onions and left the box on the table. What I should have done is thrown it away in the trash as soon as I was done with it. Of course when you are distracted by doing something other than being fully attentive to your kid he's going to find an advantage and make messes like this..... 

Of course we laughed about it, and luckily my emotions as a mother have softened up a lot since Lexie was born, and I didn't give it another thought but to look at Noah and just say, "Nice mess son." I know for a fact my mother would have done differently back in the day, and I'm grateful for realizing that making messes is no big deal. It's part of a child learning and growing up. Learning what is right and wrong. Sometimes you'll be tested to see what your reaction will be. In my case it was a calm one. Noah sure does know how to make a mess. Good ones too!

He'll probably be my only prince to make good messes...and that's okay.