You can call me crazy, but I’m truly grateful every time one of my kids spills a liquid on our kitchen floor. I love it. It’s like I’m giving the green light, a free pass, to clean the floor. I know it’s kind of strange, but I find myself feeling thankful as I’m wiping up that light birch wood floor…and watching it sparkle again.
In our home, with four little ones six and under there are LOTS of spills. And I mean LOTS. (see that caps? and the color change? that is to give BIG emphasis…:)….) When I was a younger, more rookie mom, I’d get frustrated with those spills. As much as I tried to remember “not to cry over spilled milk” I’d find myself aggravated that I had to stop my current plans to do this new plan.
Isn’t that what being a mother, or a parent is? Parenting is a lesson in giving of yourself, your wants, and your needs. As I type this I’m looking at my little Samuel jumping up and down in his Exersaucer. And it’s early. Much, much earlier than when I would want to get up. Yet, I’m awake. For him. We’ve already had our morning snuggle, and diaper change, and now for just a bit he’s content and playing. So I’m writing, with my warm Keurig Caribou coffee in hand (and on Hannah’s laptop…shhhhhhh….) about spills. Why?
Life can be good. Even when there’s spilled milk.
Spilled milk, or water, or juice (water is my fave…one less step to clean) used to be bobby pin moments. You know, those times where I’d need to regroup (pull in a DQ parking lot), and reset my day. Somehow my heart has changed to looking at those puddles as a little blessing…a gift. That area of my floor will be clean. It might not be the whole thing, but I can guarantee when someone stops by unannounced that there will be 2×3 sections of my floor that are spotless! I feel like, in some ways, the Lord knows how much I hate a dirty floor and I’m getting this free moment to clean it. I normally wouldn’t have time, and yet, I’m forced to get on my hands and knees to wipe it clean. Then…back to the craziness.
A couple of weeks ago, early in the morning, I got my Caleb a bowl of cereal. As I reached to set it down I completely missed setting it on the table. Completely. It flipped over, cereal and milk flew through the air and splattered all over the floor and my freshly painted wall. The kitchen became silent. Not a noise. Caleb and Elijah stared at me…waiting to see how I’d respond. So I laughed. And they laughed. And I cleaned my floor, got some new cereal, and started my day.