The Play Room

Lesson learned this week:

Play rooms belong in a basement, or the back of the house; and, windows are optional.

 

Earlier this week, I bought a gate for the play room. I thought this was a great idea! Genius, even. My thought was, "I can put the kids in there and know that they are safe if, let's say, I decide to take a quick shower, or if I really need to fold some laundry, or whatever." Not kidding.

You see, Logan has recently become quite enamored with the stairs, and the kitchen cabinets, and the toilet, and the garbage. And, Chloe is just... Chloe. They are both into anything and everything all the time. So, it is vital to my sanity that I can keep them occupied without chasing after them all the time.

On Tuesday, that's just what I did. I put them in their room and took a shower. When I was ready for the day (at 3:30p.m., mind you), they were still playing so I decided to get some laundry folded and my dishes done while they were still happy. Because Logan was getting tired, I didn't really want to be seen because I knew he'd lose it. I peeked in a few times, but I mostly just listened for any blood-curdling screams, or total silence.

About 30 minutes later, I went out to our car and I see Chloe standing in the window. (Side note: the play room has a BIG window that almost touches the floor. It is also in the very front of the house...quite visible from our street, or the main road just steps away). I decided to jump in front of the window to try to scare her. Except, to my utter dismay, she is standing there STARK NAKED!!

I have NO idea how long she had been free-flying. I couldn't even bring myself to check the whole room for wet spots. I'm surprised CPS hasn't shown up at my door.

Reality Check

These last few days have strongly reminded me that I am only human. 

There are only so many things I can accomplish in a day. 

There are only so many disasters I can successfully avoid.

There are only so many minutes I can tolerate a certain toddler's tantrum. 

And, there are only so many hours I can spend playing with the kids, keeping the house clean and the laundry caught up. 

There are only twenty-four hours in a day.

Marriage and motherhood have brought out a lot of my own eccentricities:

I do not like instability; I am a planner, to-do lister, schedule-keeper. 

I dislike dirty dishes being left on the counter; they belong in the sink.

I despise white floor tiles; they never, EVER look clean.

White carpet, like new furniture, is my sworn enemy; it should never be put in a house with children.

Every family needs a toy room; it is essential to saving everyone's (a.k.a mom's) sanity.

But, it has also helped me to grow, and to treasure the small, quiet moments.

I absolutely love the smell of coffee in the morning; it is a breath of life.

I cherish the sounds of the kids laughing; it makes my heart soar.

I treasure hearing heavy footsteps coming up to the door; my love is home.

I adore having my sleeping babies next to me; it helps me remember that I am fulfilling my vocation.

I enjoy having an hour to myself more than I ever have in my entire life.

I have learned more about myself through marriage and motherhood than I ever could have hoped to learn on my own. Most importantly, I have learned how to be happy. I have learned how to be patient. I have learned how to serve.