DeLappenings: A Welcoming Home Base

Oh my heavens, the cutest thing happened today on the playground after school.

Chica and two of her friends came bounding up to me, barely able to contain their anticipation, whilst one of them (not Chica) hollered as the chosen spokesperson: “can we pleaaaase come to your house to play—and do a project???”

I mean, I died.

First: because they were so optimistic and bubbly and cute and unified in their plight.

And second: because the request hinged upon not only an impromptu play date—which happens with regularity for us, much to my delight—but on the whole kit and kaboodle routine of entertainment that has become pretty standard at our casa.

I mean, it could not not not tickle me more that our house has become associated with projects. I live for that kind of enthusiasm and approval from adorable six-year-olds. Ha.

I mean (am I saying “I mean” a lot? Ha.), during our last round of play dates two weeks or so ago, one of Chica’s little friends just mumbled more to herself than anybody: “I really like this house; it’s cool,” and I just about self-combusted.

Because, truthfully, it’s a major goal of mine to ensure that our casa is a happy place for my kiddos and their friends because I want them to want to be here—and enjoy it as a playful, safe place.

And honestly, after having people associate me with perhaps undeserved OCD-ness with my house for most of my adult life, it’s fan-freaking-tastic that these young humans can see it for what it is: a home to live in and play in as they see fit. They don’t see a picked-up space and think: this is a stuck-up place, or this is an untouchable space. They just go for it. And we mess it up and put it back together again (eventually) with little muss or fuss.

And the chorus of “awwww, man!” when moms show up to bring little friends back home makes all of the effort worth it.

And by “all of the effort,” I mostly mean the cleanup, ha. This was yesterday before I forced my trio to help me with pick-up time:

And this was this morning, when you could actually see the floor:

And I’ll leave it to your imagination how it looked again this evening after bouncy housing, crafts and craziness. Oye.

Oh well. The price of childhood, yes??

And speaking of childhood...my Little Man was his superhero gecko alter-ego today whilst picking up Chica from school. Totally committed to his craft. ;)