It is God awful hot in Virginia. Our flowers are melting and toddlers are sticky. You know what else “hot” means in toddler land: everything is hard and generally stinky. It’s the stinky that’s making me nervous. Days ago we were driving, since then all I smell is bad cheese.
I imagine it was the banana I gave Toddler. Yes, gave him. You see I wanted to see the mountains, and Good Lord he whined a long, hard, high-pitched “please”. Then cried, and I really just needed a moment. So I handed him banana. He held on a little too long; I realized too late. The banana was all over, and though I did my darnedest with a wet cloth, I know this is something I’ll have to face.
I mentioned the smell twice to Husband- hoping he’d clean it out. Truly he was too busy so hasn’t done a thing. Adult that I am, I’ll avoid it. I learned my lesson about bananas. Toddlers should not eat them unsupervised in the back seat. I think to myself I’ve totally got this. I just take farther and farther walks. I tell myself, “Maybe it’s better…” But really I think it’s worse.
Even Husband has commented that something smells ripe. Well, his words might have been more colorful if I tell that story right. Let’s just say there’s a musty, heavy odor clouding up that car, and things aren’t going to be Kosher until someone cleans it out.
I’m standing in the kitchen. I’m far away from the source, but I’m smelling something awful and thinking Holy God… I start to smell the dishes. I even check the fridge. I check the trash and dish washer, a pile of bibs and rags by the sink. Clearly I’m regretting my decisions. Why banana? And who the flip can’t clean a seat? I guess that’s the thing about issues-they are never very neat. Now here I am sniffing around like crazy. Then I start to think. Did it get on something I was carrying? Is it wafting off my hair? Is it a mold that sickening my baby? Are we scaring off our friends? Or is everyone just talking about what it is that stinks?
Now I’m poised for action. I’m taking on the world. I do my usual dishes and taking out of trash. I scrub every crevice and open every door. Trust me, there is no other place for a smell to surprise me anymore. Luckily it started raining, cooling off the air. Stinky isn’t traveling, but there’s still a source somewhere.
So here I go with Toddler. We’re cleaning out the car. Yes, I took him with me. This cleaning, it can’t wait. So we vacuum up some fishies. We scrub under his seat. We don’t make it perfect, but we do a lot to make it neat.
Every day he watches me, and every day I make mistakes. I think the thing about living is it’s really all about grace. Well, also a little about garbage and a thing or two about being clean. But generally I think if you’re trying you’re probably pretty safe.
Sometimes when I worry about Toddler I forget what matters most. Isn’t the best example dealing with our stuff? I have two extra little hands and one eager, open heart. I have to take him with me and honestly that’s the best part. The journey isn’t where we land, it’s how we took our stride. It’s my job to teach him to stop and check inside.
Funny thing that teaching, I find it’s a two way street. Because the reason I know about forgiveness is watching that little guy. How could I ever hold something against his eager little face? Of course I love his giggles and his gorgeous little curls. But he’s had some stinky diapers and thrown up down my shirt. He’s ruined some new outfits by falling in the dirt. I think his whines for booboo kisses are a favorite of mine. It’s not in what he’s saying; it’s in recognizing his worth. Everyone deserves compassion, everyone on Earth. So I maybe my new mission is really about myself. I have to feel for me the things I want him to have for himself.