beauty{full}: messy

Littles and one of his buddies
making their version of beauty

I just got finished with phase one of painting the nursery bookshelf. Is it weird that I'm more excited about stocking the twins' bookshelf than almost anything else about this twinancy? Seriously. Yes. Anyway, I'm now a little paint splattered, mostly thanks to the cat who decided to take a walk across the aforementioned newly painted furniture. He's bright like that. He's also now shut in the guest room for the rest of the night. Or possibly permanently.

Anyway, we spent the early part of the evening carving and then painting a pumpkin at a deployed family event. The painting was the Little Man's idea. After I painstakingly carved him a cat pumpkin (his choice), paying careful attention to every detail in order to make it the best jack-o-lantern in Frizz Family History (which is not saying much considering last year's rookie pumpkin carving attempt), he covered over the entire pumpkin in gloppy purple and red paint.

And he loves it. He thinks that his painted pumpkin is the most beautiful masterpiece ever. He even painted the stem. That right there is attention to detail, my friends.

I could make a crack about how beauty is all in the eye of the beholder, but the truth is, looking at that pumpkin, I don't see the gobs of purple paint that are probably now festooning the inside of our car after driving a very round and rolly pumpkin home (don't worry, hubs, the paint is washable). Instead, I see how much fun Littles had and how proud he is of his handiwork. That makes it beautiful for me too.

Littles also lovingly used Tiny as a canvas.
This was post clean up.
Pre-clean up, he looked a little like a zombie.

I will be honest and tell you that it's hard for me to see messy as beautiful. I am a neat freak at best, and potentially OCD at worst. I like socks put away in organized drawers, beds made, pictures straight. But sometimes, I need to relearn the beauty of messiness. A floor covered in train tracks and bowling pins is more than just messiness--it's a sign of happy children at play, and that's beautiful. A recliner hung with discarded uniforms and PT gear is more than just messiness--it's a sign that my husband is comfortable in his own home and that's beautiful too. A kitchen counter littered with measuring cups and flour is more than just messiness--it's a sign of a well-fed family enjoying yet another meal together and that's beautiful and also makes me hungry.

It's okay for me to make the boys put their toys away at the end of the day. And it's okay for me to lovingly roll my eyes and throw the Man's clothes in the hamper. And it's okay for me to wash the dishes and wipe down the counters. These things have their place. But I don't want to miss out on the chance to see the beauty hiding in all the mess. That would be the real loss.

Incidentally, these days I really miss the opportunity to roll my eyes and throw some ABUs in the hamper.


Also, for the sake of honesty, I made sure that the paint got smoothed down on that pumpkin before we brought it home. I pretended that it was because it would help it dry more quickly (which is legitimate), but secretly, I also know that I'm going to be looking at a purple pumpkin for the next month--and some of the paint blobs had to go.



{If you're looking for the rest of this series, all the links can be found here. Thank you so much for joining with me this month.}