Are Your Kids Broom Pile Eaters?

Mine are. The broom pile: the formation of a collection of items whilst sweeping which includes (but is not limited to) animal hair, dirt, old food, some legos, broken pieces of pottery, miscellaneous plants, bread crumbs, coffee grounds, broken glass, wood shavings, paint chips, etc. I was sweeping the kitchen and there happened to be a few peas caught up in the mix. Lou comes storming across the kitchen, squats down, delicately selects peas out of the broom pile and pops them into her mouth. Waste not, want not? Not every child will eat from a broom pile unprompted. It’s a special breed.

Mind you, some families’s homes are “floor eatable” - spotless, impeccable hygiene, have a cleaner come once a week, sparkling and unblemished. Our house would not fall in the category. We aren’t dirty people, but we live a dirty life. Living in the middle of a three acre plot with a cat and dog, a garden, recently laid topsoil for landscaping, a penchant for outdoor activities that create a mess, our house is anything but spotless. I sweep 3-4 times a day yet there always manages to be that little crust that gets stuck on your feet as you walk around our concrete floors. You can feel the dirt bits crunching under your feet offering the rustic thrill of textured filth with every step. It’s like walking through a tactile memory of every meal, every outdoor venture, every forgotten spill. I have tried to implement a “no shoe policy” but my husband’s selective hearing kicks in every time I talk about it. After our recent addition, we now have a beautiful mudroom - a designated space for dirt and shoe removal. I swore I’d be the mudroom czar—laying down laws, enforcing order—but somehow I keep storming through the front door like a rebellious peasant with dirty shoes and no respect for boundaries, refusing to recognize my own authority. Josh finally locked me out of the front when I went to work. I was incensed when I got home. We leave the doors open in the summer, which really streamlines the process of turning our home into part of the ecosystem. Not to mention, Noah thinks that every “outside” toy needs to be brought into the house for some noise and dirt spreadability testing.

All this to say, I realized there are two types of kids, the ones that eat from the broom pile and the ones that don't. I didn’t ask for this blessing in my life, to have two chaos goblins running about, but here we are. I’m praying number three is their paradox, a quiet peaceful soul. My sister in law has two very sweet, well tempered, calm, non-broom pile eaters. They are a delight to be around and mostly entertain themselves with quiet activities that don’t involve injuries. Meanwhile, my kids are constantly on the move. Little dopamine addicts are constantly seeking the next big thrill that will provide the biggest rush. Lou recently stood on top of the Cozy Coupe to pee off it like some kind of toddler king, claiming the Cozy Coupe hers alone. I watched Noah scale the gate to the garden. I had the ever so pleasant opportunity of finding that Lou, at 1 year old, had climbed the ladder to our loft.

I’ve had the thrill of watching Noah jump off our raft. Noah has started eloping to the neighbors, not a care in the world. They share cookie dough beaters with the dog. They live unabashedly and into themselves wholly, which I admire. They swing from the carts at Home Depot as if they were olympians. They are driven to ruin every outfit I put them in. Gravity and balance are still optional concepts in their worlds. They say ignorance is bliss. There’s a gleam in their eyes when you ask them not to do something and they blatantly stare at you while doing said off limits activity. We do discipline them and we do send them to time-outs but their desire to eat from the broom pile is stronger than the sadness from a time-out.

At the end of the day, my kids are broom pile eaters and I’m okay with that because our life will be anything but boring. We have constant entertainment (and I’m sure ER visits) for the rest of our lives. The teenage years are a bit daunting seeing their already rambunctious entrance into the world. Some people are just destined to raise broom pile eaters and we are one of the lucky families. I am optimistic this trait can be harnessed for good in their fantastical lives. I’m hopeful that this charismatic energy translates into curiosity, fearless living, bold exploration, the ability to handle gross, wisdom, creativity and so much more.