Sweet Messes.

In a house with a floor full of old building blocks, puddles of drool, broken toys, dirty little socks, and applesauce handprints, it's easy to become overwhelmed with endless messes and constant diaper-changes. I sometimes catch myself grumbling about having to re-pick up the house every few hours. However, after the soggy onesies are washed, the finger-painted food tray is wiped clean, and I get a moment to sit down, it hits me. Soon, the crayons will be traded for mechanical pencils, the coloring books for textbooks, and the stuffed animals for acne. My son is so young, but I am still taken aback every single day by how quickly he's growing up.

And, of course, at the end of the trail of toys and wet diapers, I oftentimes find this:

Growing up is so beautiful and sad, and is one of those small pieces of motherhood that I'm still learning to deal with.