Helper

All too often Ryan and I (okay, mostly Ryan, I'll admit) can be a bit over-the-top about things being put away at home. I slack at times because I'll have multiple projects being worked on at once that, if they're put away, I'll forget about them. Anyway, things must be orderly and in their place. Children mess with this perfect order. Big time.

I'll put all of my old paperwork in a shred pile, and P will see it and promptly pull it apart piece by piece and spread it everywhere. I'll hang up clean diaper covers to dry, or have inserts and covers in a bin ready to put together for daycare. And P will dig out anything he can, and spread them everywhere. We pick up his toys and put them in baskets. He pulls them out. And spreads them everywhere. Notice the pattern?

Honestly, all I can do is smile. Which is such a better alternative to getting frustrated and yelling when he has no idea he's messing anything up to begin with. To help me maintain that positive spin, I say, "are you helping?" with a smile on my face. And P just smiles and keeps up with the good help.

It really is good help. For my frame of mind, my sanity. P helps me remember that everything will be okay, even when things are messy. The mess is temporary. And oddly, I'm thankful for these messy moments. They bring me fully present into reality and out of the robot get through life mode that I tend to fall into so often still.

Because I got a litta love to give.