My Beautiful Mess
This is what the eye of a hurricane must look like.
A week ago, we had visitors over and so we tidied up her room a bit in case they caught a glance of the disaster that her room usually is. I am here to report that it did not take long at all to get it back to it’s prior state:
Before I get to the messy bedroom and how it came to be, let me back up a bit:
Today she was off school due to parent/teacher interviews (ours is tomorrow). The school kept sending contradictiing emails and updates on whether there was a half day or not so BW and I thought, screw it - we’ll just keep her home.
BW had her own problems to solve at work so it was up to me to deal with our little truant all day.
We did what we always do when left to our own devices: We went shopping.
We had a plan: we were to hit the following stores that are conveniently next door to each other so that made it easy for parking. Today we visited:
Michaels. Man, there’s a lot of overpriced crap in there. We came out of there with a drumstick headband for her to celebrate thanksgiving. No gift for mommy was found there.
TJ Maxx. This was the chosen place according to her. We would find both a gift for mommy1 and a little toy for her2, because - I dunno - it’s Thursday?
Dollar Tree. She had an idea in her head about making some crafts about thanksgiving but she didn’t know what she really wanted but we came out of there with what be a lifetime supply of adhesive tape for normal people, and some pink glue and glow in the dark crayons because nothing says thanksgiving like a good neon poster.
Then we came home and got busy crafting:
She would sing “just a dot - not a lot” while she was gluing stuff down. Spoiler alert: there was still glue everywhere. We have diffent ideas of “a lot” apparently.
Now, back to the bedroom:
About 4pm she exploded. She was asking for somebody to lie with her in bed and that never happens. She had a nap of oh, mayyybee five minute and came down wanting dinner.
Dinner comes and we tell her that she has to come with us to the parent/teacher meeting and wait for us in the hall for 10 minutes while we hear about how wonderful our child is.
She LOST IT. “ I don’t wanna be in the hallway!”, she screamed. We tried to explain that she wasn’t being punished in any way nor was this a trick to get her to school, it’s just she needed to be out of earshot for five minutes and I can hand her my phone and she can watch videos…she was not having any of it.
This is unlike her, so combined with the early bed thing and screaming over nothing we thought she might be coming down with something, but no fever and as I write this at 9:30pm she is still awake after muliple, multiple attempts to get her to bed, so who knows…
On one attempt to get her to bed - I chase her back upstairs and when we open the door she exclaims:
“My beautiful mess!”
Then she tells me the the floor is lava and we have to step on the stuffed animals for parkour. “Unless you’re over 41”, she tells me. “then you’re too old for parkour”
I am told I am too old. whew.
This might be the one time where I am happy to be an older parent of a small child: I get out of doing parkour. Heck, I can barely spell it, let alone do it.
P is for Parkour, M is for Mess and H is for help me.
“It’s not messy, it’s a parkour course”, she tells me.
Keeping us on our toes,
TH and Co.
we did
we did