The Beautiful Mess

The Mess
The real life mess. Toys thrown everywhere. Bags from a conference in March in the middle of the room. Diaper packages half open. Shelves a mess. No cover on the changing table. Baby playing with a package of hand and face wipes.

I sit on the floor this morning, drinking my coffee, while Owen plays with his current favorite toy – a grooved stick from the Spin Again toy – in the middle of a toy explosion. Andrew left early for a college fair so it is just Owie, Chipper, and me. I’ve got a list of 9,261 things I need to do running through my head. While I’m creating my to-do list for work, the sweetest boy around turns and gives me his biggest, squeakiest laugh and crawls into my lap. There is nothing in the world like the feeling of little O crawling and climbing into your lap for some snuggles. There just isn’t.

Before he left for the day, I mentioned to Andrew that the floors needed cleaned up again. There is mud, dirt, leaves, or sticks in nearly every room with hard floor (thanks to our furriest child’s coat and paws that attracts it all like a magnet). This lends to a rather dirty Owen with all his crawling around. O’s room also needs straightened up, the dishes need done, I’ve got a couple loads of laundry to run, and the dining room table has become a landing zone for anything and everything that needs put away. I was honestly whining just thinking of this list of things I thought needed done.

But then, the sweetness of baby O crawling into my lap changed my perspective.

Owen’s room is a mess because it is covered in toys, clothes, and baby gear.

So many of his toys were gifts from friends and family who mean so much to us. We can afford to get him the toys we think he will like (a big gamble sometimes). His closet is literally full of bags and bags of clothes from size 9 months to 4T that my sister gave us after our nephew outgrew them. I’m not joking when I say we could get by without ever having to buy a single piece of clothing in the next 4 years if we didn’t want to. The shelves of the changing table are crammed with diapers and wipes we have stockpiled. His shelves are overflowing with books, many of which were gifts form loved ones.

Our home is a mess. A beautiful mess. It is a mess because we live here.

Dishes around the house are a sing that we do (sometimes) cook and have plenty of food in the cabinets. Dirt, toys, and tumbleweeds of fur are a reminder of our first child, Chip Nicol, and how stinking much we love him and the joy he brings our lives. My mountain of laundry proves I have far more clothing than I actually need – a huge luxury. The dining room table has everything from a 2018 calendar of sloths to vitamins to an oven mitt to the menu for daycare in April….I’m struggling to think of a positive of us not putting our things away, but just go with me on this one…

We live here. Really, truly. We are so incredibly lucky to have the life we do. I will happily sweep up dirt and sticks, put the toys away, wash and fold the clothes, or do the dishes if it means I get to be a part of this beautiful mess.

So very often, we choose to hide our messes from each other. We like to pretend that we aren’t a mess, our house is spotless, and our dog would never even dream about eating a baby’s toy. Sister, let me tell you, I honestly do not give one heck of a care what your house looks like. Your van is full of cracker crumbs and your car seat is stained with apple juice? Cool. Haven’t scrubbed the baseboards in a while? Neither have I in the two years we have lived in our house. 7 loads of laundry piled up? Been there. A literal mountain of cardboard boxes is in your living room thanks to Amazon Prime? No..? Ok, I guess that was just me. But anyway, keep it real. Embrace your mess. Find joy in the mess.

So often the beauty is forgotten about or taken for granted. Soon, I will miss the sound of Owen’s hand slapping the floor as he crawls because he’ll be walking. I will miss the mushy messes he makes and how often I have to clean the high chair from his adventures in baby led weaning. One day I will desperately miss cleaning up tumbleweeds of fur when Chip Nicol decides to become a ghost dog (No, he will never die. He will choose to become a ghost dog). I will miss the noise and the squeaky laugh and the mess. My sweet little baby will become a sweet little toddler and on and on it goes… So I choose to enjoy it while I have it. I choose to embrace the beautiful mess of my precious family and I won’t hide it.

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Do you have a part of your life or home that is notorious for its own beautiful mess? Snap a real life picture and share with the hashtag #NicolNestMess for a chance to be featured on the blog and our Facebook page!

 

 

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