My life is messy– as in snot encrusted, dog hair covered, crumbs on the floor, fingerprints on every door, little bits of cut up paper everywhere messy. I have friends who don’t let their kids play with play dough or paint because of the mess it makes. Sometimes I wish I had rules like that– and the spotless windows, counters, and hardwood floors to go with them.
But would I trade days like this– the self made masks, spaceship controls, jammies turned costume kind of days– for a house that stayed clean for hours on end?
(I can say that now that they’re all in bed and I’m alone with the mess.)