The Things We Step Over or Around
Sunday was the last day of the season for ice cream at Cascades, so of course we took the kids.
It was that kind of chilly-but-we-don’t-care Michigan night, and we all got one last treat before they closed for the season.
The next morning, I walked downstairs and found the empty flurry cup sitting in the middle of the basement floor. Spoon still inside. Just waiting for a mouse (maybe Cheese-It herself).
I sighed. Because really, isn’t that life? We get these beautiful moments - a night out, laughter, sweet ice cream - and then we find the sticky, half-melted evidence of joy later.
That same day, I found glue dried in a two-foot stream across the living room floor.
I didn’t even ask. I just handed the DustBuster to the girls and said, “Please peel this up and vacuum the debris.” Because if I don’t pick my battles, I’ll never have the energy for the important ones.
And then there are the clothes.
If you’ve ever lived with kids (especially girls who change outfits like they’re hosting a runway show), you know the chaos. Socks in every room. Sweatshirts draped on couches. Pajamas on the bathroom floor. It’s like a scavenger hunt with no prize at the end.
So, we finally did it - we implemented a quarter fine system.
Each girl gets $10 worth of quarters at the start of the week. Every time a parent has to pick up an article of clothing, that’s one quarter into the parents jar . Yesterday alone, I collected $1.75 between the two of them.
It’s not about taking their money - it’s about giving them a visual.
They can watch those shiny coins disappear and connect it to the trail of chaos they leave behind. We’ve been talking about this for years, but words alone haven’t made a dent. Turns out, they’re motivated by competition and cash, and honestly, I’m not above using that to my advantage.
If it works, maybe we’ll expand the system - because my teen and his abandoned dishes might be next on the list. (Fair warning, kid. We’re coming for your cereal bowls.)
We want our homes to look like the pages of a magazine. But honestly, some of the best memories are made in the mess - between the couch and the end table, in the conversation while we peel glue off the floor, in the way a half-empty cup still says, memories were made last night…
And maybe, just maybe, in the sound of quarters clinking into a jar - the sweet sound of awareness being built, one sock at a time.
A Moment to Reflect: What are the “things you step over” in your own home? The piles, the dishes, the slime stains that no one admits to?
Could there be space for a little friendly competition or creative incentive - something that turns frustration into learning? What systems have you built to keep your home from feeling like it’s always one step behind?
Maybe this week, take a walk through your own version of the mess - not with judgment, but curiosity. What could shift if the cleanup became a shared effort instead of a solo one? And what small piece of chaos could become a moment of giggles, connection, or even teamwork?
