Updated: Oct. 24, 2023
Originally Published: Oct. 24, 2023
It was an ordinary day in my wonderfully chaotic home. My youngest was battling a pesky ear infection, while my energetic three-year-old was determined to resist his nap. While I was at work, my babysitter kept me updated through text messages. She informed me that my oldest had actually managed to sleep for a solid two hours—no fussing, just peaceful silence. “AWESOME!!!” I replied, overflowing with excitement.
Little did I know, that peace was about to be shattered in the most unexpected way.
I returned home around 6:00 PM, greeted by my enthusiastic toddler exclaiming, “Mommy, come here! I want to show you something!” The look on my babysitter’s face was one of sheer horror. She glanced at me as if to say, “Brace yourself for what you’re about to witness.” My heart sank as I prepared for the worst.
To provide some context, we had just moved into our new home three weeks ago. My son’s room was pristine, boasting fresh paint, new carpet, a stylish Ikea dresser, and a big boy bed complete with a slide—something my husband and I still debated whether it was the best or worst parenting choice. It looked like a Pinterest dream. But as I stepped into his room, I was met with what could only be described as a total disaster.
Everywhere I looked, there was black marker. He had decorated his bed, walls, carpet, toy chest, curtains, dresser, and even his nightlight. No surface was left untouched. The sheer amount of detail was astonishing; he had clearly put in two full hours of effort. The once-white bed was now nearly unrecognizable, coated in black scribbles. My husband and I often commented on how focused our son had been during this escapade.
In that moment, I found myself at a loss for words. I was filled with anger and confusion, unsure how to respond. Should I yell? How could I convey the seriousness of this situation? But then I looked into his proud little face, and my heart melted. He was genuinely thrilled with his artwork, believing I would share in his joy. Taking a deep breath, I calmly said, “This is not okay; we can’t draw on our walls or bed. Let’s clean this up together.”
As he dashed off to grab paper towels, I frantically googled “how to remove marker from everything.” Before diving into the cleanup, I snapped a few quick pictures to send to my husband—words simply wouldn’t capture the chaos. I also called my mom, who laughed heartily before offering some useful tips. Apparently, nail polish remover and hairspray were the go-to solutions. I started with the nail polish remover, which worked on the marker but also stripped away the new paint. Oh well, I figured it was a necessary sacrifice.
Meanwhile, my son diligently handed me paper towels while scrubbing at the marker on his slide, turning to me and saying, “Mom, this is hard.” After half an hour, I realized the fumes from the remover were making me dizzy, so I suggested he step outside for some fresh air.
Reflecting on the experience, I learned a valuable lesson. First, if you hire movers, make sure they don’t tuck away a box containing a black Sharpie in your child’s closet. Whoops! More importantly, I discovered that I didn’t need to raise my voice to get my message across. Sure, I felt like screaming, and there have certainly been times when I did. But that day, I chose to stay calm. I realized my son hadn’t acted out of malice; he genuinely thought I would appreciate his creativity.
While I made it clear I was upset, involving him in the cleanup and discussing my feelings seemed to resonate with him more than yelling ever would.
You may be curious if I managed to remove all the marker stains. The answer is no; I’d estimate we’ve only tackled about 75% of it, and I doubt we’ll make any further progress. It took hours, and honestly, I’m not sure he deserves a pristine room after this little adventure. I mean, he literally made this bed (with a black marker), so perhaps he should lie in it—at least until I feel comfortable handing him a paintbrush again.
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Summary:
In a lively household, a mother recounts the chaos that ensues when her toddler transforms his newly decorated room into a canvas of permanent marker art. Faced with the aftermath of this unexpected creativity, she learns the importance of calm communication and the value of involving her child in the cleanup process, rather than resorting to anger. The experience serves as a reminder of the joys and challenges of parenting.