Tuesday, October 19, 2010


Small things.

My house is like any other house with kids I'm sure. I puncture my feet on Lego that is left lying around, the sight of Polly Pocket shoes lying on the ground makes me twitch a little and while I have made the girls' dirty laundry hamper entirely accessible, welcoming and even a little fun, I still find dirty socks rolled up like donuts (one was stuck on a door handle the other day - yuck!) and underwear strewn on the ground. I nag constantly for the girls to pick up after themselves, and cackle when I hear their reaction down the hall to me putting all their dirty underwear on their pillows (yes I'm evil). I put more pressure on Grace to keep things tidy because she's older and should be helping out more. Edie I pressure, but pulling her down from whatever cloud she is visiting is too damn difficult sometimes.

The battles are not epic, but I do feel a little like Cinderella at times cleaning up after everyone all the time, with no respect or a thanks Mom youarenice comment. I also snap about once a month a show them a little crazy and get them to clean and put away their "treasures" (oh yes, everything is a "treasure", god forbid you suggest throwing it out or giving it away).

The other morning I had to pick up my boss in my van. Now, my van is a petrie dish. I don't go beyond the front seats. There is likely primordial ooze bubbling in the back seats somewhere. Gollum would be perfectly at home in one of the two rows reserved for the 8 and under crowd - I wouldn't be surprised if I turned around and saw him sitting on a booster seat playing DS. There is a garbage bag provided to them to dispose of their debris, but to rub salt in the wound, I often find wrappers on the floor, a quarter inch from the provided bag. I just don't look anymore to save me from having a complete aneuryism.

The day I was picking up my boss though, I was dropping the girls off at school first. Thinking about the boss man's comfort in my mini-van I took a quick look in the back and am pretty sure I dropped a big old f-bomb in reaction to the mess back there. Grace asked what was wrong and I not so calmly told her I was picking up my boss in 15 minutes and the state of the van could make him question the hygiene of our family. Do you know what that kid did? She calmly began cleaning the van, quietly placing all the garbage in the bag, not even complaining that she was picking up her sister's trash. It was tidy within five minutes. The only thing left to pick up was my jaw off the floor.

I love it when they surprise you like that.

6 comments:

alison said...

Yeah, they surprise you just often enough that you don't sell them on eBay or lose your sanity completely. I'm the same way, and I'm sure they can calculate to the smallest degree just how far to go before I snap, and then they start being co-operative. It's a good thing they're cute.

Anonymous said...

I've been in your van... I can testify that I did in fact come into contact with [glittery] primordial ooze. Literally. And I lived to tell the tale.

- Your friendly neighbourhood curator.

Mary said...

LOVED this.

Pauline said...

Maybe you should drop the "f-bomb" more often! *kidding*

I hope she surprises you like this more in the future. :)

Mindful Merchant said...

I love your writing! Primordial ooze - brilliant. Such a good post. :)

Beth said...

Dirty clothes on pillows? Pure genius.

I am SO going to do steal that idea.