Inspired by Jennifer Floyd’s creative exercise, “Still Motherhood.”
“These inanimate objects, exactly where they are, tell the story (of an age-old cliché we all roll our eyes at) that we really will miss this someday. The little corners of our home and treasures under the couch tell the story of a life filled with very loved children—where they create, learn, love, and rest. Take a moment to stop and capture these little moments of still motherhood – and remember the beautiful life you live and love.” – Jennifer Floyd
There’s no mistaking the fact that kids live in our home.
Our windows are speckled with hard water spots from the most recent water gun fight. Flowers fall victim to little feet in a furious game of tag. Grasshoppers and frogs find solace in the sand box turned mud pit, greeted every evening by the 6-yr old. And at any given moment, our backyard is littered with snack wrappers and socks left outside the trampoline – a true rager by any kid's standards.
Inside the house, clutter gathers on the counter which acts as a beacon to any artwork, AA battery or lost item without a “home.” Special treasures are found intentionally placed on benches and stair cases by the 4-yr old. He pleas, “Save my toys for later,” as if they’d go anywhere while he’s away.
There’s a constant internal battle between keeping the house clean and keeping the peace. Is it worth stopping the kids when they drag the Christmas tree out of storage on the last day in July and adorn it with every ornament we own? Or is the mess later worth the hour of quiet now? Will the memory of “making Christmas” on that blistering hot July day be one they treasure and look back on and smile?
I have been stopped in my tracks before, by the collision of the daily grid meeting the innocence of childhood. I’ve snapped photos of plastic scorpions on the bathroom floor and superhero figurines dangling from the tree branch out back. The evidence of their lives is sprinkled throughout, despite my best efforts to keep life neatly tucked away and organized. But maybe on occasion it’s ok to let things linger where they land and simply admire their existence.