I won’t lie to you.  Most days I have to stifle a potentially explosive feeling of irritation when I encounter the mess that comes from having three children.  Fighting a strong preference for order, I’ll mumble cues to myself:  “Look the other way.  Don’t comment on the mess.  Remember how much you love them.  That’s more important than a clean house…..”

Sometimes this self-coaching technique succeeds in diverting a regretful explosion.  Other times, we all end up unhappy.  Today, I’ve made peace with the mess.  As I walked into my tween’s room, I noticed, amidst the clutter, a hardened glob of glue on the rug – a casualty of a model car project.  It was easy to see that the glue would be a permanent reminder of this project.  Thankfully, the perpetrator wasn’t home to receive an admonishment.  This gave me time to change my perspective.

My tween had been so focused, productive, and joyful while assembling the model car.  I had marveled at his independent accomplishment.  I had to admit, the benefits outweighed the one drawback – albeit a permanent one.   And then it hit me.  In eight short years – less than the amount of time he’s already been with me – he’ll probably be off to college.  A tremendous sadness came over me as I felt the future emptiness of his bedroom.  Eight years from now, it will take me only a couple of hours to clean his room top to bottom.  I’ll probably want to rip up the rug anyway, glue stain or not.  In less than one day, I could erase any mess and fix any destruction that occurs.  In other words, I could erase any evidence of his history here.

Is that really what I’m looking forward to?  Quite the opposite.  I’d bet a brand new vacuum that when my tween leaves the nest, I’ll look at the glue stain on his rug and weep from missing him.  Still, it’s hard to keep this perspective after long days at work and at parenting.  And it’s nice to dream of walking through a room without tripping over toys and laundry.  But I’m learning to let the love I have for my tweens rule over my love of cleanliness.  I now force myself to look at the (mess) in their rooms as free redecorating.  Sure, our decorating styles differ, but children, too, need a space to call their own – a place where they can relax from the demands and rigid standards of the adults in their lives.

I’m also learning to employ some humor.  By the time my tween returned home, I was able to lightly comment on how nicely he had re-decorated his room.  “I always thought we should add some texture to the rug.  And a sprinkling of trash.  And some food art – rotted peanut butter and fluff sandwich was a special touch.”  My tween smiled sheepishly, wondering if that was the extent of his scolding.  We were both relieved that it was.  Then he cleaned up his room.