I so often give myself a rough time about this whole motherhood gig. Am I doing enough? Am I reading him enough books? Am I spending enough time with him? Too much time with him?
Among all the dreams and hopes I have for him, mostly, I want my son to be free. To be free to explore, unencumbered by expectation or benign rules. To learn to navigate this world with a sense of adventure and curiosity. If you look closely, you can find a resurgence of this kind of parenting splashed across social media; quietly reminding us type A mothers everywhere, to #letthembelittle.
I've been trying to find a grace-filled space where I can allow us this freedom. Sometimes it feels like a super fine line between exploration and total chaos. In these moments, I remind myself that we only get this day once.
So I say yes.
Yes to playing on the floor in spilled flour.
Yes to walking up and down the same block repeatedly.
Yes to stopping for six minutes to pick three or four blades of grass - just to discard them three steps later.
And while all my yeses will still aim to keep him safe, what's the harm in letting him dump his sippy cup on the kitchen floor? While we splash in it, I can talk with him about water molecules. Or how it will eventually evaporate and disappear. And that way, even NOT cleaning up the mess ushers in an opportunity to learn.
And who can argue with that? Here's to making memories! And messes. (There will be lots of those!)