Kids First

One afternoon an acquaintance stopped by for a cup of tea with two pre-school children in tow. At first she was very nervous and jumping up at every disturbance she heard as the kids played. In an attempt to soothe her nerves I explained,

"Relax and let them have fun; anything that could be broken probably is and anything that is not, probably should be." 

Her mouth dropped open but then she laughed and stopped straining her ears for the smallest sound of trouble.

I am foolish but also proud to say that our house was a very, very fine house with a dog at the door, a cat or two curled up on the best chairs, gold fish swimming circles on my too small counter, sometimes a hamster,  guinea pig or rabbit in a cage on the kitchen floor, paintings and crafts displayed anywhere and everywhere and  of course way  too many plants.

Our living room was a living room with all sorts of activity centres and corners. Prized Lego structures were covered with a tablecloth for meals. After dinner, the older kids and their dad would sip tea or water and talk as they worked on the puzzle.

We lived in a house built for kids because their mental and emotional well being came first. It was so much easier to live this way. I was a fast learner as I quickly realized that tearing down a block city that would host hours of absorbing play the next morning was absolutely self-defeating. I once read, that for a child, the hour put into a block structure is similar to a business man working weeks on a project. Just as a grown man would be devastated to see weeks of work dismissed, so too is a child devastated to have his blocks swept back into the bin, right after he has finished stacking them.

Often we tend to barrel along with our self-important agendas or we strive to keep our house looking too tidy and guest presentable. I often had attacks of guilt, though,  like the afternoon when a six year old walked into our family room that was strewn with Lego,

"Why is your house sooo messy", she wondered.

Or the time a good friend , in an attempt to make me feel better said,

"Your house is very clean, Melanie, it just looks lived in, that's all.

I was not mollified at the time.

 One of my sister-in-laws intimidated me with her immaculate house. I mean the baby undershirts were folded neatly in four and stacked perfectly in the drawer! Do you know how small those undershirts are? I was lucky to get them out of the clean laundry basket and stuffed into the drawer before I needed to use them again.She did only have two kids... but still!!! Then she came over one day to help me attack a project and she leaned on a counter in the kitchen and said,

"Honestly Melanie, I don't know how you ever get out of the kitchen and laundry room!"

Tears welled up in my eyes and I sputtered,

"That is the kindest, nicest thing you could ever say to me."

 I trust that our house was built for kids not just adults.

I trust that our house was one where little people felt loved, safe and respected, no matter what their age or personality.