My youngest child is very particular about what she will wear.
I recently purchased some solid colored tank tops for her to use at soccer camp. I chose black and gray.
She didn’t really like them, and I was baffled. What could be wrong with a plain black or plain gray tank top?
When I asked her, she said, “Mom, I don’t like plain colors. I like all the colors together.”
That is my baby girl–full of life and color.
She will be ten years old tomorrow, so now you are subject to a sentimental post of a mama who has three children–all in double digits.
Kids bring color to our lives.
The moment they enter the world, they are a contrast to the hushed, stark environment of the hospital room. They are noise, movement, and color against muted whites, tans, and grays.
They take the black and white lines of how life should be and smear them with crayon on the walls.
They take the plain floors of the home and splatter them with socks, pillows, and wet swimsuits.
There is nothing emptier than a home with kids who are gone for a week of camp. The walls seem to echo, and the dog wanders from room to room searching for the vibrancy of life.
Sometimes the color of life can feel messy and chaotic… because it is. It jolts us from our routine and sends us running from glorious sunrise to stunning sunset. But we are fuller and alive in a way we were not before our children.
Our children are music, color, light, etc. Mix the metaphors together. Break all the rules of writing and all the rules of reason because our kids fill us with something inexplicable.
Yes, this is my crazy, nostalgic mommy rant. I know it is mushy and gooey, but what do you expect from the woman whose daughter made slime this morning?
Hug your colorful, chaotic, beautiful kids and let the mess of life cover you just a little longer.