There’s an awareness of this concept, and then there’s the full understanding of the reality. The latter sneaks into your consciousness if you spend any prolonged period of time with a toddler.
Ava knows the word “mess.” And she seems to have a pretty good grasp of when she’s part of one. She’s getting good at grabbing a napkin and wiping her mouth if she’s managed to get pudding or spaghetti sauce or ketchup all over her face. For a couple weeks it was exasperating to try to keep Ava from spreading her food or markers or whatever all over the place, and more often than not she’d toy with us by repeating exactly whichever behavior it was we were trying to stop.
Lately, though, we’ve become much more lax about Ava’s adventures. Aside from our awareness that we’re simply not going to be successful at keeping her clean at all times, it’s become clear that she really enjoys getting messy. She loves grabbing a handful of watermelon or banana and giving it a good squeeze just to feel what it’s like to have the fruit squishing between her fingers. Another favorite pastime is to grab the blueberries out of her oatmeal in the morning, eat them, and then run her hands through her beautiful blonde locks. She tends to look like something you’d find at the bottom of the Old Country Buffet’s dumpster by the time she’s done eating, but my, she’s happy as a clam.
Last evening Ava added a new twist to her obsession with mess. She’s begun sneaking away from us to go and hide either under our bed or her crib, each of which has a bed curtain. As soon as she disappears, Leah and I start calling out for her and asking each other in serious (and easily-heard) tones where our little girl has gone. After a couple minutes we’ll hear a shuffle or a squeak of laughter or see Ava’s smiling face pop out from under the bed, and the jig is up.
I was getting Ava ready for her bath last night, and when I went to get the little stool I sit on when while I bathe her, she made her escape. Leah and I had just started our search theatrics when I remembered that Ava had indicated before she ran off that she needed to go potty. Sure enough, we found her — smiling and giggling — lying in a big puddle under our bed. Luckily she was already naked, so aside from the mess on the floor, it was a quick matter to lift her up and drop her directly into the tub.
Feh. Kids.