Rocking My Baby

Annabelle loves washing windows. Good thing, because her and her sidekicks sure know how to make a mess out of glass.... and well, everything else they touch.

 

Simply put...our home is always dirty. With 4 kids living full-time in our home, I can clean something and moments later it's dirty. I'm consistent about tidying up most areas of our home, but I learned a long time ago to embrace the dirt. And, honestly, I have (in a strange way) grown to love it.

As much as we painstakingly try to train our children to respect property and be good stewards of things, the fact remains that they are still kids. Not miniature adults. Spotless homes with flawless furniture no longer impress me. Instead they just make me uncomfortable because I know that when the visit is through, and my children say their goodbyes they will be leaving their marks behind.

 

Behind every spec of dirt in our home is a story. A beloved son or daughter is behind each fingerprint, each crumb, each piece of laundry, each dirty dish. It means my children can walk, can run, can eat, are growing, and I will even go out on a limb and say, are thriving. The messes that lurk around every corner...It all means that my children live life with me, day in and day out, moment by moment. We are making our memories together as a family inside this messy home and I wouldn't change a thing if I could.

During the first days after Samuel and I came home from the hospital, Andy's mom told me about a poem she had up in their home when she was raising her children. I meditate on it's lesson quite often.

Rocking My Baby

      

Cleaning And Scrubbing Can Wait Till Tomorrow...
For Babies Grow Up We've Learned To Our Sorrow...
So Quiet Down Cobwebs...Dust Go To Sleep...
I'm Rocking My Baby, And Babies Don't Keep.