The memory is faded, but I still remember. Those seven o’clock nights of my growing up years sitting around the dinner table on occasion, when everyone was home from basketball practice and student council meetings.
There were a lot of things my Dad handled like a champ – but spilling milk at the dinner table was not one of them.
Now that I am a mother to five trying to get dinner on my table, I get it. A flood of milk dripping through the cracks of the table on to the floor (we had carpet under my childhood table) was not a peaceful way to ease into the evening!
My sister and I were sent to our rooms a few times while every towel in the house was gathered to soak up the mess.
I remember thinking, “This is not a big deal. There are worse things than spilled milk. I won’t get this upset when I have kids.”
Ha. Ha. If I had carpet under my table – I would not be a fun person to eat dinner with – period.
While the event itself really isn’t a big deal…the way we choose to handle the disruption is right?
Finding joy in the middle of a mess is not for the faint of heart. It takes skill, patience, and even a little pre-prayer to make sure we don’t go into over-reaction mode.
So guilty of that.
Just this week, my 2-year-old decided that time-out on his little boat bed was the perfect time to shake out an entire bottle of baby powder. He came out to tell on himself, “Momma – I made a BIG mess…”.
Why yes he did. Mercy Jesus – I am waving the white flag of surrender!
In that moment, the siblings were dying of laughter because his little nose was white, his short little legs were ghostly, and there was a fresh smelling cloud billowing out of his bedroom door.
