I’m not much one for making new year resolutions. I consistently vow to lose weight every December 31 and by January 2, Captain Pavlova and his dastardly crew of whipped cream have sunk their anchor into my resolve.
But on January 1, we drove out to Wellington, a small acre-plot-laden outpost near the Murray River, just out of Murray Bridge. There, friends of ours had a property with a tin shed plopped at the front that they use for holidays. It’s dusty out there, hay-bunnies list idly between derelict sheds and Rob’s engineering “projects”. There is a lonely play set near the shed, surrounded by yellowing weed-driven grass. The barrenness is both wonderful and isolating.
But my new year resolution became clear as I watched Scout and Inky court Rob and Ruth’s 4 kids (all older than both of them). They made punch in the retro drink machine inside the cluttered tin shed. They drew snails and flowers on the bunk-beds crammed into one of 3 annexes. They ran wild in the paddocks, tripping over tent pegs and bull ants. At the end of the day, even after several hours clamouring for space on the speedboat or the Wake Snake (oh wait, that was me) and immersing themselves in the sandy heaven of the Murray, they were dirty as f*ck.
I’d usually shudder at the filth that was caked all over their feet and hands and little bodies. In a fit of urbanised pique, I’d usually avail myself of an entire packet of wipes just to clean them up. But I didn’t. As we ferried them to the car around 8.30 pm, the kids’s tiredness and dirtiness sort of melted into 2 joyful piles of sleepy brown.
Don’t worry about the dirt. Don’t stress about the sand-dunes forming on the car floor. Be more free-range. Get dirtier. Sound more like a Radiohead song.
Perfection is the enemy of childhood. I resolve to remind myself of that whenever things don’t go to plan.
And cherish those dirty little feet every single day.
Perfection is the enemy of childhood. I LOVE that. I think I just found my new motto and justification for not having the cleanest kid in the room!
Thanks Kylez. Clearly I should have called the blog post that. SEO and everything. I think I’ll trademark it too. Not a genius today, no sirreeeeeee. Kx
SO TRUE!!!!!!!!!
xx
Thanks Lily. EMBRACE THE DIRT. We’ll see if that translates to the non-holiday season! Hope you are well and enjoying having hubbie around! Kx
I have managed to become a lot more OK with mess and dirt since having my twins. I am a perfectionist too and I try to get over myself a bit when it comes to B1 and B2, and let them get amongst it. I love that quote: Perfection is the enemy of childhood. I want to put that up on my wall
I never EVER thought of myself as a perfectionist, but I noticed last year I had some very strange perfectionist inclinations. This going pro-dirt business will be a challenge for me, no doubt! Kx
Sounds like they’re having a ball! My kids are always filthy, always! And that’s just from our backyard. Up at the farm they turn black with dirt! I’ve given up trying to keep them clean. It’s a futile battle
YES! It’s futile, isn’t it. I think that’s what I realised on the Murray. I would ordinarily be so stressed cleaning them up, it was quite liberating to accept that they were so HAPPY macerating in filth. It was pretty cool, actually. Kx
Oh gosh so true. I am not even a perfectionist but I still tut tut and cluck and fuss about the constant MESS! Must. Chill. Out.
It’s easy to get perspective on holiday – harder to do it in amongst the daily grindstone I find! Kx
What a wonderful post, it almost made me weepy! Just such glorious visual images of kids playing all day and collapsing in ecstatic happiness into the car to sleep. As I’m often trying to remind my husband, perfection IS the enemy of childhood (as he has to physically remove himself when the kids go into the sand clam-shell on the decking) and every time my 5 year old plays another ipad game, my heart breaks a little for that dusty, rabbit strewn place you have magically conjoured in my mind. Thank you and thank you again.
Awww, thanks Caroline. Such a beautiful comment! My husband is iPad man and we are very much a gadget family (me much less so) but you’re right, it breaks my heart too when the sun is shining and Scout nags us to watch TV/play on the iPad. Thank heavens she loves (book) reading. And she is so going to LOVE kicking back in the imperfect dirt of her little urban childhood. Kx
Although I think that ‘Perfection is the enemy of childhood’ has a lovely ring to it and does sound rather wise, I’m afraid the obsessive-compulsive clean freak in me just won’t allow it. I try though. We were at a friend’s place in the bush for NYE and I actually PUT BABYGIRL ON THE GROUND. Big move. And I scrubbed her thoroughly afterwards. But heck, I tried it, right?
Well, it wasn’t going to suit everyone Kel! I totally get where you’re coming from, though. Just warning you, that Melbourne Mum may get a bit dirty this year. But not in a way at all interesting to anybody interesting. Kx