Motherhood is spending 48 hours making a frozen excavation site.
For 10 minutes of fun.
Because you like the way he purses his lips when he's focusing.
And because you love the glimmer in his eyes when something novel is set before him.
You see yourself in those lips. And you see his daddy in those eyes.
And after all, in the grand scheme of his childhood, what's one more puddle on the floor and one more pair of shorts in the laundry?
If it means I've met him where he's at and spoken the love language of mess making and mess enjoying and mess cleaning.