If I don’t go check on him, after brushing my teeth, taking out my contacts etc, I will go sit on the couch and just take in the messy room. The toys on the floor, clothes pulled out of their baskets or drawers, a book half-open, or a half-colored picture sitting on the coffee table.
I try to imagine Conner’s wee little hands carrying them around, as he giggles at Adam chasing him. I’ll see him trying to get the dogs to play with his toys, and getting frustrated when he doesn’t understand that all they want to do is chew on them.
Flipping through a book and “reading” it out loud. My favorite thing to watch him do is open up the seat on his “Retro Rocket", and try to get himself entirely in the hatch. I have to remind him, “Conner, the baby doesn’t go in the seat, he goes on the seat”. He shakes his head at me and goes on about his business, “Psssht that mommy, what does she know?”
Sometimes, the mess isn’t just a mess.