Sometimes, as parents, we get swept up in the day-to-day struggle of life with bills, and work, and rainstorms, and living with small humans both unpredictable and strange. We get overwhelmed. We put all our spoons into just getting through the day without major incident, and are glad when it’s over.
Sometimes, you start the same simple project over and over again– you mistake navy thread for black and don’t catch it until the seam is nearly finished, you try to sew a French seam with the right sides facing out of habit, you make a measuring error– and suddenly, what was supposed to be so easy is impossible.
And invariably, while you are in the depths of this everyday depression, your irrepressible little children will ask to do something outrageous. Something involving paint, and limited supplies, and relying on the inconstant spring weather to stay clear for a few more hours.
And, for reasons you don’t totally understand, you might say yes.
Yes to the mess.
Yes to the chaos.
Yes to the inevitable bath that will have to follow.
Yes to the memories that you are making.
Yes to the mini-lesson on secondary colors, and the demonstration of printing with the cardboard palettes you improvised.
Yes to the seemingly thousands of trips to the bathroom sink to wash a brush so you can use another color.
Yes to scrubbing paint off the deck afterward, and leaving a weird clean spot in years of dust because seriously, who washes their deck?
Yes to the children, who are so much work and so very worth it.
Yes to being the kind of parent who is okay with supervising painting projects, even on a difficult Tuesday you wish was going better.
And then, against all the odds and absolutely all reason, you find your kairos moment for the day. In the paint. And the mess. And the nuturing of small souls.
And you decide to say yes more often.
Even on hard days.