When Mommy "Purple Crayons"

This is a well-loved children's story of a boy named Duncan who received letters from all the crayons in his box.  Some crayons were proud of their work, others frustrated and tired, some begging to be used more.  The yellow and orange crayons aren't speaking to each other because they both feel they should be the color of the sun.  It's a cute book about perspective and how they all combine, together, uniquely, to make something beautiful.  This book has been loved by both my boys and my sixth graders.

One of the crayons, the purple crayon, really speaks to me.  Not only has purple been my favorite color for my entire life, but this purple crayon sounds a lot like me...

While Purple Crayon can appreciate the creativity of Duncan, it cannot deal with the inevitable disorder that a young person coloring brings.  Like the purple crayon, I love my boys' imagination, zest for life and exploring, desire to touch, to feel, to experience, and I appreciate how curious all three are about our world and their surroundings.  I have been given three very busy, very active boys.  These positive character traits, also inevitably, bring about a fair amount of disorder, chaos, and mess to our home.  

It's very typical, starting at 6:00am to have train track pieces scattered around our TV room as Nolan and Judah build a new track.  Daily, we have Magnitiles all over our fireplace room building apartments, garages, restaurants, walls, roads, and castles.  We won't go a day without having Hot Wheels cars organized in rows by color, in between elaborate Magnitile structures, or being "driven" all over our main floor.  And when it's nice out, there will be play kitchen supplies covering the floor in our three seasons room after they've opened a new restaurant or dumped them from any number of dump trucks we possess.  

Tools are often strewn about as they "fix" doors, cabinets, buildings, train tracks, etc.  And doctors kit essentials- stethoscopes, thermometers, and blood pressure checkers (I don't even know what that thing is called) can be found anywhere because someone always has an ailment that needs checking by Dr. Nolan, Judah, or Carter. Don't even get me started on what happens when the boys want to do art- markers and their tops separated and all over the kitchen table and floor. 

These things have some commonalities- they allow my boys beautiful opportunities to play, together, mostly in harmony.  They are also MILLIONS of small freaking pieces!  Many opportunities to get knocked over, stepped on, end up in between couch cushions and behind furniture, and generally, make a HUGE mess.  

My boys know, as they have spent now several years with me, that I like things neat, orderly, clean, and organized.  They see me go at bins with my label maker, have sat for many "lessons" on where things go, have watched my face as I walk into a room and see the destruction.

Their play and my need for control (#MyCrazy) are constantly at odds.  My smart brain knows how important it is that we just play and I LET THEM JUST PLAY- this play is beautiful and necessary and brings joy, problem solving, critical thinking, fine motor skills, vocabulary, teamwork, and social skills into their lives in an authentic way. So, because of my smart brain, I try to take all these messes in stride, I really do.

However....

sometimes I just can't take it.  I look around and see disaster everywhere.  There is no room I can walk into and have it be clean and organized.  And, I lose it.  I completely lose it.

Because I accept my children for who they are and they accept me for who I am, we have coined that when Mommy gets this way, she "Purple Crayons."  

Usually that means a couple of things...

1.) I will label this- I will warn them that I'm about to "Purple Crayon."  My three boys will often start cleaning things.
2.) If cleaning of something doesn't happen, and soon, I will probably make everyone stop what they are doing and pick a room and we will tackle it together.  I often find that if I can have one room on the main floor be completely clean, I can handle the rest better and won't "Purple Crayon." 
3.) If that cleaning doesn't happen (because people don't always listen the first time- who knew), I might end up raising my voice and start threatening that toys are going to get thrown away, donated, hidden, put up high for a while, or given to either of their cousins to play with. 
4.) If it gets really bad, I really do completely lose it, just like Purple Crayon warns in the book.  I'm not nice to be around; I'll just leave it at that.             

Listen, I'm not proud of myself when I "Purple Crayon."  Not even a little bit- they are some of my worst moments as a mom.  But I think we all get there, as parents, about certain things that drive us crazy. It might be huge messes, it might be when you've had to repeat yourself the hundredth time just trying to have someone put on their shoes to leave the house.  It might be the last straw when your kids have had a day where no one seems to be getting along with one another, or the fifteenth time your kid comes out of their bedroom at bedtime asking for a drink.  Sometimes, we cross our limits of patience, kindness, and understanding.  We are human, we lose it, we "Purple Crayon."  

The important thing, I think, is that I label this feeling and that both I, and our boys, know it's coming.  I'm trying to raise boys in touch with their feelings and be well-versed enough to be able to talk about them and problem-solve about them.  Not everything in a day is great or easy.  They need to see that I'm real and I struggle so they can feel comfortable to struggle too.  Nolan is my child most likely to also "Purple Crayon."  He has started to use that term as well when he gets frustrated with something and on the brink of not being able to take it. 

The other necessary thing is that once I am done "Purple Crayoning,"  I own my behavior, apologize if I've yelled or hurt anyone's feelings with my frustrations, and talk with my kids about what I or we could've done differently to prevent that from happening next time.  Usually we realize that if we had worked better, as a team, we wouldn't have gotten to that level of frustration.

Finally, I need to remember that kids are little only a short time.  Yes, some days are frustrating and chaotic and dysfunctional.  In fact, sometimes it seems like most of the winter is like that.  But, thankfully, because my "Purple Crayoning" is fairly rare, I can still appreciate watching these young boys play without a care in the world.  That is magical, and perfect, and just how it should be.  It's what I always dreamed for, hoped for, and prayed for.  Someday my house will be quiet and clean and I'll probably dump a tub of Legos just to remember when these precious boys were little. I cried just thinking about that as I wrote it.  I have to remember that I am SO grateful for this mess, these million pieces, and that stepping on a car and hurting my foot means I have a house full kids who like to play and have fun.