Late last night, the girls were asleep, and while I was in the master bedroom, I heard some furious whispers coming from the stairwell. I crept out to investigate, and saw no one there. I knew it had to be Ed making those noises, but at the same time I wondered what in the world was making him talk to himself?
As I wandered downstairs, Ed soon appeared with a spray bottle of Formula 409. Now I knew exactly what he was up to. There were several sticky little hand prints on the wall going up the stairs, and Ed had spotted them.
About a year before Ed and I were married, I brought up the idea of adoption. After having breast cancer, chemotherapy, taking the drug Tamoxifen for five years, and then having huge, orange-size uterine fibroids removed along with part of an ovary, I feared that I wouldn’t be able to have children. Ed and I agreed that if it turned out that I was infertile, we would go the adoption route.
When Ed and I started trying to have a baby, it didn’t take long before we found out Lily was on her way. I was unable to have my regular mammograms when I was pregnant and breastfeeding, so we didn’t try to have our second baby until I had that mammogram and everything checked out okay. Emmy was on her way three months after my mammogram. My fears, obviously, never came true.
And so when I saw those sticky hand prints on the wall last week, I was happy to be in my own, toy-strewn, chaotic house with sticky hand prints on the wall. This is the kind of house I’ve always dreamed of having. I resisted cleaning off those sticky little hand prints. A house full of little ones with sticky hands and mouths, runny noses, and giggles is exactly what I want.
Being sentimental about those sticky hand prints didn’t cause me to stop Ed in his tracks, however. Eventually, I would have gotten out the Formula 409 myself. Sticky hand prints on the wall can only be sentimental for a limited time. Plus, I have a rule…never interrupt your husband when he is in cleaning mode, or he might never be moved to clean again!
I think so often we only see the mess and not the blessing that made the mess. I totally agree with you about a cleaning husband!!
you have such a great outlook on sticky hand prints!i have a lot to learn from you about letting the little things not upset me!
What a sweet post. What a beautiful story you have and the two little ones to prove it. You have been blessed.
Can you teach any of this to my wonderful husband??
So sweet. When I was growing up, I lived in a different state than m ygrandmother. I had visted her for a couple of weeks one summer when I was 2. During that time, I left a chocolate handprint on one wall. She couldn't bring herself to clean it off, and after I left, she pushed a piece of furniture in front of it so her house would look clean, but that she could still treasure it. When she finally did try to wash it off years later, it had stained the paint. to my knowledge, it's still there. I try to remember, when i'm scrubbing my windows every other day, that their little fingers won't be that little forever, and that when they are old enough NOT to leave fingerprints, I will miss it. Lovely post.
Sometimes I like the mess but most of the time, I clean it right up after the kids are in bed.So glad you guys were able to have kids. They're beautimus!
Beautiful!(and you should NEVER interrupt a cleaning husband. kind of like never wake a sleeping baby.)Visiting from SITS. Thanks for the comment love on my blog. I will have to add you to my daily blog list.
Ha! It's true. I never discourage hubby from cleaning, even when he's clearly doing it wrong ;)Very sweet post.