Friday, August 9, 2013

A Beautiful Mess

I had a different post planned for today, as it is my little man's half birthday!

Hooray! A six month old!

{Oh, crap that means that he will be for real moving and stuff soon - and I will have to feed him things that cost money. Ack. No! Go back!}

But, when I told baby girl at breakfast that I was going to make a cake, she gleefully exclaimed, "Help! Evelyn help Mommy!"

A month or two ago, I would have said "Um, sure Baby, you can watch Mommy. How's that?" But today, I said - "That sounds like a great idea! Lets get dressed and you can help me."

I honestly thought she would forget. One well placed suggestion of some much-loved Mickey Mouse and I would quickly whip everything up in peace in the kitchen, whilst the sounds of the hot dog dance came floating through the air.

But, she didn't.

All through getting herself and "BabyBrudda" dressed.

"Cake, Mommy?"
"Stir cake, Mommy?"
"Help, Mommy?"
"Happy Baby cake, Mommy? Me help?"

So, I figured, what the heck. Let's do this thing. All the way. It can't be that bad. Right?


She was having such a good time, and you know what?

So was I.

Until... I turned to get the eggs.

She felt absolutely awful. After the crash, the first thing I heard was her little voice -

"Oh Nooooooo!"

"Momma!" As the tears started rolling, "Momma! Cake fell! Cake fell on me! Oh no! Baby Brudda Happy!"

{She calls cake 'Happy' sometimes, which makes my heart explode a little bit every time.}

Then she looked up at me, covered in cake mix, lip quivering and said, "I sowwy, Mommy."

With that, I scooped her up into a hug and told her it was all ok. It was just a little mess and accidents happen.

And you know what? They do.

Instead of the frustration or exasperated sigh that I would have predicted when I thought about all the things that could absolutely go wrong with having a toddler help me bake this morning, I laughed with her.

I showed her how silly the mess was, and put some cocoa on my own nose.

She giggled and giggled and helped me clean up the mess and entertain her brother while we cleaned.

It's in some of these moments that you truly understand the kind of parent you want to be. I want to be the mom who lets her kids help her and totally doesn't overreact when it all goes to hell.

{As it inevitably will at least half of the time.}

Turns out, sometimes I am that kind of mom.

Who knew? If this wouldn't have happened - I don't know how long it would have taken me to discover that this was an absolute non-issue and that I shouldn't have worried about it from the get go.

Of course, I would have been insanely frustrated with myself had I been the one who had done the spilling. But she did it, and I felt...nothing.

Nothing at all, but laughter bubbling up and spilling over into the mess.

This beautiful, beautiful mess.

Evelyn Rae is two years old, Liam is six months (today!)

...and it turns out, you never really do know until you try.


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