There is an art room. A dining room turned into a room for creating. Sharpies, crayons, glue, clay and every sort of paper. Scissors, tape, glitter and duct tape. Every supply right at their fingertips.
But they put some of it into a cart. A cart that has wheels and can transport the supplies to the foyer, my office or the kitchen table. Now they can create anywhere and everywhere and be yards away from the room that has been ordained the creating room. And the things that belong in the creating room can be found on the steps, on the floor, on my desk and on the kitchen table.
I remind myself that the mess will be gone sometime and then I will be sad. I remind myself that they are creating and thinking and inventing. And that is good but it’s messy. But I still love it.
They have water balloons – 500 to be exact. Well, not 500 anymore as some are broken on the deck and in the front yard. They sit and fill them for hours and then throw them at each other and they are gone in minutes. It’s messy and wet and usually ends in tears. But I still love it.
The scooters get dragged into the foyer and take a quick ride through the house to the garage. They smile and laugh and fly by me.
The foot stools in the family room and the living room are dragged to and fro to make impromptu offices. Office supplies are gathered from their containers and drawers and hidden in new places all over the house.
This time is short – this messy time. It’s bothersome when someone comes to the door and I need to explain the pile of pipe cleaners displayed in the foyer or they trip over the scooters that didn’t make it to the garage and ended up in the kitchen. I remind myself that it’s all here because they want to stay near me in the kitchen, laundry room or the office. I remind myself that they aren’t using electronics (although they are neater) but look what they(we) are doing…together. It’s messy and I love it.