• J Mess

SAY YES TO THE MESS

It was our wedding hashtag and now it’s my life.


I’ve never been described as a neat freak. In high school my room was such a mess that you couldn’t even find any part of the floor under piles of clothing and other assorted crap. I was aptly “Messy Jessy,” and who knew how foretelling that would be since I am literally now Jessy Messier. Er. Get it? Like more messy. Ba dum ching. I’ll be here all year.


These days the legendary clothing piles remain, be it on the bench at the foot of the bed, or in the suitcases I have yet to unpack from weekends away… weekends ago. My dining room table looks like Buy Buy Baby, Amazon Prime, and Michael’s threw up all over it and there are baby and cat toys all over my house. But, there are some things I am weirdly desperate to keep clean. The things most out of my control. The things most likely to quickly become disgusting. My son’s car seat, high chair, and subsequent surrounding areas.


Car seat

I don’t want to have a mom car.

I remember when I was younger carpooling or going in my friend’s cars who had smaller siblings. It was pretty much guaranteed that if there was a car seat, the car smelled like “kid” (don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean), the seats were stained and there were crumbs, most likely cheerios everywhere. I can imagine it’s almost nearly impossible to avoid this outcome, but for some reason I am determined to try. I’ve already begun finding puffs in the bottom of my son’s car seat and he’s developed this fun new habit of turning his cup upside down and throwing it on the floor of the car, so we’re not headed in the right direction. That’s to say nothing of the fact that just this weekend he took an epic crap all over the seat. Luckily I got the black one.


I’ve seen some of the insides of my mom friend’s cars. It’s basically a combination of mom mess, ie, things that need to be returned to a million stores, shoes, coffee cups, receipts, coupons, and baby mess, ie, toys that have been thrown all over, crumbs, and necessities for caring for said baby like regular stroller, umbrella stroller, high chair cover, wipes, diaper bag. I have never once regretted getting the most gigantic truck we could afford, because if my car was even 1 inch smaller, I wouldn’t have anywhere to put my mess.


High chair

I think the baby learning to feed himself stage is going to be my least favorite. Probably followed closely by baby learning to use the bathroom himself.

We were succeeding with mom-fed purees, with the occasional hand in mouth putting food in hair or on the chair. The only casualty being mounds and mounds of wipes. But now with finger foods, he’s a mess, the tray is a mess, the floor is a mess and my weird baby-feeding area OCD is a mess. I know what you're thinking. The baby in this photo here isn't even that messy, get a life. However, I was always the cleanest feeder. I’d spoon the food into his mouth and then spoon off whatever was left around his mouth and then wipe everything. Everyone else who fed him would just let him have food all over his face and hands. Because that’s apparently the fun of babies eating. But fun for whom? They all probably thought I was nuts. Why is she cleaning his hands after every bite? Why is she wiping down the tray every 5 minutes? It’s the epitome of a losing battle. Yet I watched them all feed him, and saw him smearing food everywhere, and began to twitch. What. A. Mess.


Our new “dropsies” phase has extended to the high chair, with the only winner being the cat. Some kids turn their heads away when they don’t want any more food, some cry or yell, some kids learn the sign language for “all done,” my kid takes the food, looks me right in the eye, drops it off the side of his high chair, and then laughs. More on that next week. I can’t wait to see what mess we make when we start using utencils…

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