Delightfully Random

My wife and I collapsed onto the couch late one Friday night, our three-year-old son Reid had just been tucked into bed. Exhausted from a long week I did a once over on our living room - laughing out loud at the tornado that had gone through our house.  Not one thing was in its place; there were little bowls of snacks, pieces of clothing, action figures, Hot-Wheels, random silverware and for some odd reason...the Halloween decorations were out.

Slightly annoyed by the mess, I looked at my wife and asked her if our life will ever be normal AND clean again. She chuckled at me and said that one day we'll miss this big mess. One day the house will be quiet and it'll be just the two of us, one day we will long for the chaos. We'll miss the times that we affectionately like to call "delightfully random" in our home.

Allow me to regale you with some examples.  

While getting ready in the morning it's not uncommon to find snacks hidden in our shoes.  More than once I have pulled a half eaten string cheese out of my boots, or squished my toes into a stash of strawberries at the bottom of my Converse.  That groan from the other room, that's my wife with a foot covered in Mac and Cheese that for some reason was tucked away inside one of her heels.  I have no idea why my son does this. It's like he's a squirrel gathering nuts for winter hibernation, a tasty snack is always one sneaker away.  

At any given moment a major war might break my bathtub. Pulling back the shower curtain reveals little plastic army men marching along the rim of the tub. Hundreds of them lined up heading off to attack a shampoo bottle fortress.  I can't help but smile when I see what he has done and I don't have the heart to pick them up. I tip toe around the great battle during my next shower, silently cursing in pain when I step down on the bazooka guy by accident. 

And lastly, my day would not be complete if I didn't find the dog wandering around the house wrapped in a blanket wearing a plastic fireman's helmet. Looking up at me with the same disgusted look as I might have when surveying the damage in my messy living room. Sorry pooch, at least he's not making you slide down a pole. 

So here's a big fist bump to all the parents in the same boat as me right now. Although we're tired and flustered from the continual work around the house, the constant clean up, the sticky floors and the stains on the carpet.  Take a few minutes to just sit back and soak it all up.  Cherish your own stories and the constant reminders that a 3ft creative monster lives in your home.  One day we'll be all alone in a perfectly kept house longing for the days that were delightfully random.


As featured in Colorado Parent Magazine, April 2015