Hurricane Hughes

Between 8am and 3pm my house literally looks like it has been turned upside down. (please don't come over unannounced) because I have three tiny hurricanes living under my roof

who can do some major damage.

These little, yet mighty storms cause nonstop destruction. I'm talking bottles and sippy cups spread all across the counters.. blocks, baby dolls, stuffed animals.. -let's be real, every toy we own- 

scattered on every inch of the floor.

dirty high chairs..

And don't even ask about the devastation we call a playroom.

My smallest tropical storm, Gemma, goes through bottles quicker than I can clean them when she first wakes up. Oh, and one of her dirty diapers is so intense. And Liv, she's a total cyclone carrying toys into all the rooms of the house. Then performing one of her unpredictable tantrums that leaves us spiraling out of control. Finally comes the category 5... Mikah enjoys adding to the chaos by pulling out all the wipes,

dumping the qtips

or the tiny rubber bands,

or better yet,

purposely dripping milk on the carpet

knowing I'm too distracted by all the other disarray. This fierce little two year old may look harmless,

but her sneaky smile is only the calm before the storm.

These little natural disasters definitely keep me on a constant watch and the house a total mess.

And as much as I wish sometimes that I could evacuate,

or hide in a safe place until the damage is over,

I know that's not an option. So instead, I sit down in the middle of all the damage and take part in the destruction. I hold Gemma in my lap while coloring with Mikah,

trying to overlook the fact that her hands are now orange and the little table has scribbles from where she missed the paper. I watch Liv dump out all the food in the play kitchen and happily pretend to eat everything she hands me. I crawl on all fours looking for just one of the four pacifiers I've lost throughout the day. And just as I begin to survey the damage, relief comes walking through the front door (also referred to as dad) And I know I've survived another disasterous yet perfect day.

As chaotic as our house may sound, it really isn't as bad as you think. Kids are built to make messes. And as crazy as it may make me some days,

I've learned it's easier to just breathe and let it go. A perfectly clean house doesn't make memories.. it's the cookie crumbs on the floor, the handprint on the fridge, the dirty bare feet walking in and out the door, the crayon mark on the living room wall. That's what we will remember.

And believe it or not, we will miss it.

So I allow my little hurricanes to make massive, memorable messes.