It’s so crystal clear to me when I see other adults do it to my kids.
My husband opens the front door and the first thing he sees is an array of LEGOS scattered across the floor (same LEGOs that allowed ME to cook dinner, but that’s hard to realize after a tiring workday, I get it.) He greets us, but then he promptly tells our boys to clean up their mess.
I remember it when we lived with my parents in-law. Any time they were about to have company over, I’d hear my father-in-law tell the kids not to make any messes.
“So we can’t play?” my then-toddler would ask me. It broke my heart a little to see him process the implication.
It’s easy to see in other adults and harder to come to grips with in myself. But I do it too. I walk into a room where the kids made a fort–couch cushions all off, dining room chairs all in the living room, every blanket in the closet draped every which way– and I say, “What a mess!”
I see the dozens of papers that my perfectionist preschooler tossed on the floor while he practiced drawing a cowboy and I tell him to clean up this mess.
I see all of the stuffed animals out of their basket because my toddler had to find the blue puppy at the bottom. I see messes everywhere I go.
And the demolition teamwork of my crawler, toddler and preschooler outpace my ability to clean up or instruct them to clean it up by a mile these days.
Just the other day, we were going to have some friends over for the evening and after getting the whole house picked up (a RARE occurrence in these sleep-deprived three-kid days), my preschooler told me he didn’t want his friends to come over because they would make a mess.
Ouch. That would be a parental gut check right there.
Play started to be equated mess at our house, and it was draining the joy from play for all of us. Friends started to mean more work later. What a terrible association!
I realized that my kids would rather have screen time because it doesn’t make a mess; there is nothing to clean up. And I can’t have that; I don’t need screen time getting any more ammunition on its side.
We have to stop. I have to stop calling everything they do a mess.
Children need to feel the freedom and safety to be creative and play as they please. Yes, they also need to learn the responsibility to clean up after themselves, but that doesn’t need to feel like a negative consequence every time. Let them play. Get in there and play with them. And at the end of the hour or day, turn on some music and cheerfully clean it up with them. Do it before a meal or snack and let hunger motivate the cleaning! Discipline the ones who aren’t willing to help. Make it a habit carried out with cheer, not a burden that climaxes with stress and anger.
I don’t practice this perfectly, but I am striving to do better.
I’m striving to say, “WOW HOW DID YOU BUILD THIS?” or “Did you ever find the piece you were looking for?” or “Oooh, can I play too?” or simply, “I’m so glad you’re having fun, buddy, thanks for doing your thing so I could do the dishes.”
And I hope that it shifts their view of friends, hospitality and people in general. We can’t look at our guests as walking mess-makers. Children People make messes, but they’re so very much more than the mess they make. Life-giving relationships are always worth the work after everyone has left. If we’re not teaching our kids that, then we may have our priorities a little mixed up.
But tomorrow is a new day. You can nurture their creative spirits. You can help them develop a healthy sense of responsibility. You can help them see the value in the people who make messes (like them!) You can defeat the idol of a clean house in your heart. You can. And you can start by not calling everything they do a mess.
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I appreciate this A LOT. I had forgotten the way I felt when my parents would say this exact thing to me; this post reminded me of that and that I need to watch myself when I feel tempted to do it too.