So this happened today.
My toddler took it upon himself to “redecorate” the curtains (and window) in our “formal” living room.
My first thought was a mixture of a little bit of “That’s not good” with a lot of “Dammit. Now I have to do more laundry.” But those thoughts immediately fell away. I laughed to myself. Hey, curtains can use a good washing every 9 years anyway, right?
Why did I not get upset about this unconventional artistic expression? I’m not exactly sure.
Is it because I have learned to see beauty in all the messes? Probably not.
Is it because I am so tired that I have no more effs to give about how my house looks? Maybe.
Is it because I am learning to pick my battles and not let the small stuff get to me? I think so.
Parenthood is hard. So hard. We have enough things to worry about and be angry at and freak out over. Painted curtains doesn’t have to be one of them.
So for now, I will enjoy the pretty colors added to my home by my mischievous little Picasso. And, if you plan to come visit me sometime in the next 9 years, don’t be surprised if I still haven’t washed those curtains.