I was given a mosaic stepping stone craft kit years ago as a child and it went in my bedroom closet where it sat.
I don’t remember who gave it to me (my sincere apologies if you read this and remember!).
I do remember that we talked about making them many times. My sister had one too. We pulled them out and looked at them.
We would definitely make them. Someday. It looked like fun.
And you can probably guess where this is going. Before the someday when I’d make my mosaic stone came the someday when I left home for college. And somehow a box filled with cement and mosaic stones didn’t make the cut for what got crammed into suitcases and piled into a dorm room.
Honestly I had forgotten all about that craft kit until I came home to visit my family this past week and my mom mentioned it was still in the basement closet. I immediately thought, well, let’s do it this week. We’ll put Elizabeth’s toddler handprints in and let her design it. The stones will be randomly placed but it will be cute and a mosaic is supposed to be somewhat random anyway. Right?
So yesterday I ripped open the bag of mosaic stones and started mixing cement and wondered why on earth I ever thought this was a good project for an 18-month-old.
But we did it anyway.
Because the convenient time to do messy projects with toddlers is, well, when they aren’t toddlers anymore.
It turned out she really only wanted to throw the stones across the table and hated having mud on her hands. If she keeps her current cleanliness obsession I’ll never have to get on her to clean her room, so I’m not complaining!
So our final stone was designed by Mommy and Grandma more than Elizabeth. But I’m still so glad we did it. It isn’t perfect. And it made a mess. But messes are temporary. And memories matter.
And if it’s worth doing today it’s worth risking imperfection.
(This unedited picture makes it look way better than it does in real life. Don’t ask me how an iPhone 4 camera makes colors look better than they do in reality.)
Too often I use imperfection as an excuse to delay.
I can’t come up with the perfect words for that email so I just won’t write it now.
My decorations don’t all match so I’ll leave them piled in the closet until I have the budget/time/inspiration to do it right. I admit, I actually have a pile of picture frames (with pictures!) that have been sitting in my closet since we moved in a (
month) year ago.
Someday we’ll hopefully have a real dining room with space to store all the china and crystal we got as wedding gifts. So we’ll use it then. Someday.
And it happens in parenting too.
We’ll go “owside” on a walk later when I’ve done my hair and look “presentable.”
We’ll do finger paint tomorrow when I psych myself up for making a mess.
But I’m not promised any laters or tomorrows. I’m given today. And when I accept that perfect moments almost never come and this imperfect one is good enough, I’m always glad I did.
I hope someday we’ll come back to visit Grandma and see our little mosaic in the yard. Elizabeth’s hands will be much bigger than the prints in the stone. We’ll marvel at how tiny they once were. And I’ll tell her that it’s worth it to treasure the little things and the imperfect moments.
Because life is formed by a mosaic of the little things.