it's everywhere

I looked around my house this morning.

There were annoyances in every room.

Hailey's laundry that I lovingly washed dried and folded was still not put away.
The boys room was a mess.
I almost tripped over a basketball on the stairs:

There was caravan of vehicles on almost every surface:

An empty sippie cup lay abandoned on the kitchen floor:

Breakfast sloppily consumed, but left for me to clean:

Books strewn around the library floor:

shoes laying in the middle of the playroom:

Breakfast toast on the library couch:

And a backpack plopped by the front door and left there all night long:

I started to get annoyed.
Kids: Professionals in the art of mess making.
Does it even cross their minds to pick up after themselves?

Then I stopped.
Took a deep breath.
Did some meditating. (not really, but wouldn't I be so much cooler if I had?)

And I realized.
I remembered.
All that mess means childhood is alive in my house.


And that is something I am grateful for.