When the Icing Hits the Ceiling (and Why That’s Okay)

I’ve always been someone who loves a good system. Give me a label maker, some drawer dividers, and the scent of a freshly cleaned room, and I’m in heaven. A trip to the Container Store? Basically therapy. Cleanliness and order have long brought me calm and a sense of control in a world that often feels… less than tidy.

But when my daughters were little, I had to come to terms with something that didn’t fit neatly into any labeled bin: the beauty of the mess.

I remember one summer day when Pinterest inspired me to make watermelon-themed cupcakes with the girls. We were having a blast—flour in the air, giggles at every turn. And then came the icing. Bright red. Everywhere. My sweet Alex dove into it with full-body commitment. Not once, but twice. It was in her hair, on the counter, dripping down cabinets. The old me—the one tightly tethered to her definition of “clean equals calm”—wanted to scream, grab a sponge, and reclaim order immediately.

But something in me paused.

This moment—this glorious, sticky, ridiculous moment—was part of a bigger project I had committed to: being present. It meant putting my perfectionism on the shelf and modeling for my girls that sometimes, joy looks like chaos. That it’s okay to be silly. That letting go is a strength, not a failure.

So I chose to laugh. We took goofy photos. We made memories that no pristine kitchen could ever compete with. And yes, eventually we cleaned up—together. That part felt good too. But I didn’t rush to it. I let the mess breathe.

Now that my girls are older, I think about those moments more often than I thought I would. I don’t remember the crumbs on the floor or how long it took to get the icing out of the grout—I remember their faces. Their laughter. The small but powerful act of choosing presence over perfection.

And that lesson? It sticks with me.

Life is messy. Relationships are unpredictable. And sometimes the best thing we can do is pause, smile, and soak it all in—even if it means red icing on the walls.

The truth is, there’s always time to clean up. But the chance to connect, to laugh, to truly be in a moment with someone you love? That’s the kind of mess you’ll never regret.