Every corner and crevice of our life has proof of that a kid lives here.
There are toys in our shower.
Rogue stickers on the floor of the dining room.
Matchbox cars in the banister on the stairs.
Handprints at hip height all over my closet mirror.
Little socks stuck in the couch cushions.
Leftover valentines in the dog bed.
Stuffed animals shoved in the bookshelf.
A red top in my jacket pocket.
Everywhere you turn, there is a reminder—small, large, messy, sweet, or otherwise—that our lives are now overtaken by a toddler. There have been the toys found in our bed late at night, or the jelly smears on my phone found after lunch, or the various stickers that I’ve pulled off my shoes every day for 2 weeks. At every turn, there is a physical reminder of the chaos and mischief.
I’ll be honest, there are days when it drives me insane. When we’ve cleaned the whole house and mere MINUTES later, the detritus is all back. When I’ve stepped on that same damn car 3 days in a row, in different rooms. When, FTLOG, I’m cleaning Cheerios out of the car…again.
But most days, I relish the chaos. I smile when I’m at work and I find the toys in my purse. I grin to see the dog with a sticker stuck to her tail again. I love the little reminders (as if I could ever forget!), that life is different now, messier maybe, but filled with fun little surprises.
Although I will NEVER like stepping on Lego. That’s more than any sane person would like.