That's My Girl! She Sleeps With A Spoon.

Today has been one of the most peaceful days in my home for quite some time. Of course you'd never know that by the look of my house this afternoon.

R emptied the silverware drawer all over the kitchen floor. The utensils then made their way outside, back to the kitchen and into the living room. (Don't worry, she left the knives alone and I took the forks.) So spoons were strewn about the house. 

I thought board books were invincible. Let me tell you from personal experience, they are NOT. There are pieces of them everywhere.

I'm not sure the last time I actually saw my countertops. 

R's room, which had recently been made over and cleaned, was in shambles. 

Oh my list could go on and on, but for your sake I will not. 

But today I did things a little differently. Honestly, I didn't do most of it on purpose. I was just tired of fighting it all. 

You know what I mean... Fighting the stress of striving. Striving to achieve the goal I had in my head of this imaginary land of motherhood in which children always do what I say, never make messes or mistakes and sleep upon command. The land where your house is always clean, you make your family actual meals and you are always fully dressed and put together.

No matter what anyone else tells you, you just know YOUR kids will be perfect. 

I just knew that would be my kids. Mom always said I would have my kids all dressed to the nines, walking in a straight line and singing in harmony… Now that I have kids, I'd just settle for having them dressed.

I have fought with R to take naps practically since she was born and I think I might be done fighting. She has officially worn me down. So today I put her upstairs, laid her down on the coach with a pillow and a blanket and turned on VeggieTales. I didn't hear a peep from her for over an hour. I even checked at one point to see if she was asleep. She wasn't. So be it! If I can get Baby Girl to nap and R to give me over an hour of time to accomplish ANYTHING, I'll take it.

We made it to Target this morning, which was great for me- coffee and shopping. Since we didn't leave the house yesterday, getting out today was a must. I can't go more than a day at a time without some change of scenery. But instead of just focusing on my shopping list, I had a novel idea… We should have fun!

Seriously, I can't even begin to count our trips to Target. The baristas and store clerks know us by name and yet this never occurred to me before. As we meandered through the aisles, we played with toys, tried on hats and walked countless times through the same toy aisles filled with dolls and horses and anything pink. And they squealed every. single. time.

Now it's not that we haven't walked those same aisles before, but this time I did it because THEY wanted to do it. R couldn't get enough of trying hats on her and her sister (who was NOT such a big fan). She sang at the top of her lungs. And both girls laughed so loud everything in me wanted to tell them to turn down the volume, but I just couldn't. They were having fun.

But why can't our normal routine be filled with tiny adventures and silliness?

I caught one of the employees staring at me strangely as I made funny animal sounds with Baby Girl as she laughed and laughed. A maintenance worker poked his head around a display as R clapped and cheered after trying on each new hat. He was grinning from ear to ear.

If people are going to stare, let them do it because I am allowing my kids to be kids. I am giving them the freedom to be silly- to laugh and squeal and giggle. I'll take that any day over the alternative - tears and hollering. And I often experience both. I am, of course, not saying that this will never happen again. I know all to well that it will. But my new goal is to approach our normal routine with a different perspective and hopefully allow them to do so as well.

Let's get things done, while having fun.

I'll be honest. My girls aren't the "perfect little children" I imagined.

They are so much better.

My babies are happy, they are healthy, they are spunky and they are perfectly imperfect. 

Somehow at the end of our crazy, messy day, the house ended up cleaner than it began. And as bedtime drew near and we were met with screams and cries from both girls not wanting to fall asleep, I went in to check on R. As normal, she had thrown everything out of her crib. Her blanket, toys and books were scattered across the floor. But as I peaked over the edge of her crib, I noticed that although her crib was empty she was tightly clutching a spoon to her chest. All I could do was laugh, cover her back up and let her sleep with her spoon.

Yep, that's my girl! She sleeps with a spoon.