You would think that moving as much as we do, that the act of moving would, in and of itself, feed my somewhat obsessive compulsive nature. But my dear friends, it does not. Most days, it sends me to the corner rocking and singing the alphabet quietly to myself, like it did this day.
The older kids wanted to "help" me by unpacking their own rooms. "Make sure you put your things away," was my last instruction. They came downstairs a little while later with big smiles, and they wanted me to come upstairs to see the "spaceship" that they had created out of boxes. I was busy unpacking boxes too, so I told them I would look at it later.
I should have looked right then.
When we went upstairs to tell everyone to get ready for bed, soldier and I discovered what can only be described as a war zone in our media room! Boxes had been just dumped on the floor. Packing paper was everywhere. Pencils had been jammed into the sides of the boxes. Crayons and stuff were everywhere! We asked them to clean up the mess before bed, but it got worse.
The next day, I planned to put together the kids' rooms while soldier took them to the pool. What I found took my breath away!
Sweet girl and sweet boy had dumped two huge boxes and a wardrobe box onto the floor. Nothing was put away. Packing paper was on the bed. Can you see it in your mind? I felt my knees buckle. All I could do was start at the top! It took me three hours to get the boys' rooms sorted out. I got the garbage out of the girl's room, and I will probably tackle hers today.
At this point in my life, I am learning that a little mess is ok. Moves, and life, don't always turn out like you plan, but John Lennon's lyric still holds very true, "Life is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans."
We make messes. We clean them up. We make more messes. But it's ok to make messes. Messes teach us lots of different things, so pay attention to the messes and enjoy the summer!
In the meantime, I will continue to look for the base to the blender!
May the moving gods smile upon you and may only the junk that you don't like get broken . . . sby
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