Life is Messy

I have a confession to make - I am a recovering messaholic. I suffered (mostly others suffered: sister, parents, roommates) through the condition most of my life until I got married and decided that it was best to give up my messy ways. But as my children ran through the sprinklers and rolled in the mud, it got me thinking. They were very dirty and very happy.


And when hands are sticky and faces are covered in food, I know that they are well fed and very happy.

And when toys are scattered around the room, I know they played hard and are very happy.

So perhaps, true happiness cannot be found in a freshly disinfected remote control (which I am told is very germy), but in the messier moments. From now on, I will resist the temptation to follow my children around with a vacuum and maybe get a little messy myself. While making avocado pizza (mmm...avocados, mmm...pizza) a few nights ago, I tossed my pizza crust just like the chefs do (not exactly like them, I need to work on my technique). Kinda messy, kinda fun.

And as a side note, here's a boy that could use some dirt therapy. See all that drool? Yep, two teeth and only five months old! Not a happy boy...