I know, I know. It seems strange to love that my children have dirty clothes. With dirty clothes comes the never ending laundry pile that is hard to get a handle on at times. It means another evening of me folding clothes when I would much rather be doing something else.
But it also means that my kiddos are healthy enough to run outside and play in the backyard. While cooking dinner most afternoons, I can hear my girls squealing in delight as they make “cakes” in the sandbox. I can hear my little boy fighting imaginary pirates as he digs a big hole in the backyard.
Sure, they come back covered from head to toe in dirt. But in the big scheme of things, does it really matter that they ‘messed up’ their clothes outside? Do I care that it adds to my laundry pile?
Not in the least.
I am acutely aware that not all mamas get to see their children make ‘grass angels’ (like snow angels sans snow here in North Carolina) or scribble with markers and get it all over their shirts. I realize that this is an enormous privilege – this motherhood I live every day.
And I am so grateful.
So bring on the dirty clothes! My washer is waiting.