Picture this: excited students on their final day of school before holiday break. They’re hopped up on sugar cookies and dreams of no school for days on end. Popcorn! Movie! Apple cider! Gift exchange! Perler beads (Lord help us all)! Decorate your own sugar cookie! It’s all happening. The time has come for the day to end; the students begin stacking chairs, throwing away trash, breaking down tables, grabbing their things. They head for the exits and then…? A mere table bump turns into a broken-down-table cascade with an APPLE CIDER AVALANCHE. Screams! Panic! Teacher’s gonna teacher, so I grab the Clorox wipes and a giant roll of paper towels and issue orders in a calm voice. Only–as it turns out–the cider avalanche chose to flow downhill onto the finger-sized DIVOTS on the backs of all the tables. Who even knew those divots were there? And what do they even do?? Student who table bumped is extremely embarrassed and keeps muttering the words “failure” under his breath while I pollyanna the situation and encourage my students that “We can do it!” and “No worries!” and “It’s fine!” even though I feel certain there is now apple cider fermenting on spaces previously unknown to man. I have sweat beading in places the sun don’t shine but it’s an interesting finale to an epic semester. We made it. We did it! I finish vacuuming the room, pack up my precious student gifts, head home, take a shower, and Jeremy orders a pizza.

Fast forward 18 hours and picture this: I’m enjoying my first holiday morning by finishing a book on the couch when concerned noises start coming out of my husband in the kitchen. Sink something. Disposal not working. A sweet smell and a powdery residue. Eventually me and my fingers go to check out the situation and I discover that SOMEONE did SOMETHING with wax in the sink and while it smells quite lovely kitchen productions have now come to a screeching halt. This needs management. Put the kettle on, Ma, we need boiling water stat. I use a ⅓ measuring cup to portion out the waxy water that my fingers and a slotted spoon can no longer grab. A pile of paper towels, two tea kettles-full, a gallon and a half of wax-filled water, and distant memories of my calm morning later and the disposal is open but my mind is clogged by WHY IN THE WORLD WOULD SOMEONE DO THIS? Someone is at school and cannot answer for herself. I have less patience with this Someone than the Someone at school yesterday, so it’s probably good the Someone isn’t here.

Ack.

Life is messy.

Learning to be gentle around apple cider is messy.

Figuring out that wax should never go down a sink drain is messy.

Raising children is messy.

People are messy.

I am messy.

There’s no easy fix to messes, but patience, time, and a whole lot of paper towels can cure a number of ills. I don’t know what messes you’re cleaning up this week but you got this, friend. Deep breaths. You’re not alone.