While Emmett honed his fine motor skills this evening, learning how to put his first tastes of peach-mango flavored puffs into his tiny mouth, and Micaiah worked on finishing her dinner (a task she was reluctant to complete), I pulled out the iPad and began flipping through a free e-book I downloaded longer ago than I can remember - something about living organized and ridding my life of clutter, a task any visitor to my home can attest to my needing to do.
The first chapter focused on the differences between right-brained and left-brained thinking, getting to the very root of the "mess" issue - those who are dominated by the right portion of their brains, according to the book, are inherently averse to order, or, perhaps just incapable of maintaining neat. While every personality test I have ever taken has always had a difficult time defining me - I always come out nearly perfectly balanced, not fitting definitively into any one box (and I maybe kind of like that unpredictability) - it would appear that my ability (or inability) to keep house would be one of my better-exemplified right-brain characteristics (though my adoration for alphabetical organization points me toward the left-brain camp).
While I pondered this dual personality I seem to possess, I looked up to see my somewhat anal-retentive daughter - who can sometimes get in trouble for being too precise when putting things away and very much enjoys washing her hands - painting her face in ketchup, using her chicken nugget as a brush. My first instinct was to stop her, scolding her for playing with her food rather than eating her green beans as she'd been instructed, but before I could follow through, I stopped myself. Clearly she was expressing her own tidbits of right-brain creativity, and who was I, in that moment, to stop her from being herself just because it made life a little messy?
Sometimes it's nice to set the rules aside in favor of fun and freedom.
(And, yes, she had a bath shortly after.)
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