I am a messy person by trade. Ask anyone in my immediate family and they will concur. I have a phobia about clean bedrooms and believe a little bacteria in the kitchen is good for you. Seriously, I hate to clean, but I understand the need and desire for things to look nice but have a hard time putting that understanding into practice. My kids take after me in that department. As a child, I had a difficult time keeping a bedroom that did not have clothes strewn about and still do. So when it comes to the kids bedrooms, I don’t have a problem with them being messy-so long as you can navigate through them. My only desire is they throw stuff away–spent tissues, broken toys, the last year’s homework paperwork and dust every once in a while.
The blog this week may seem a bit boring as my husband and children are in Florida, while I am still here, at home working. You might think I’m nuts for opting out of our annual pilgrimage to the Sunshine state, but I have my reasons, most of which have to do with braces, credit cards, High School tuition and a leased car with no vacation pay to support them.
You might believe a week away from my husband and children would be tantamount to me laying around watching movies and eating bonbons (I wish!), but let me assure you, that is not the case (darn it!). You see, as a way to justify my staying home, I decided to something that I ordinarily would put off for another day…paint bedrooms. So Thursday I asked both kids to clean their rooms. The doll excited at the prospect of having a bedroom with a color she picked out began doing so immediately. The boy, however, argued. “Clean your room, find homes for everything you want to keep otherwise, I’m pitching it!” I said. “But mom that’s not fair…” He began. “Bay, I’m painting your room while you’re gone and I’d like to not worry about paint falling on clothing and prized possessions”. I explained in return.”…That you would arbitrarily throw my stuff away…” The boy continued with righteous indignation; ignoring me totally.” Just do your best,” I offered not willing to argue further.
His only warning to me, before he left was “Don’t open the closet…” Which of course I did but was totally unimpressed–nothing was about to fall out. What he failed to warn me about, however, were the 12 coca-cola glass bottles filled with water he had hidden between his bed and the wall in addition to what I found under his bed and dressers, along with what was shoved in between and behind them as well. He also never mentioned a cubby hole in which I found a case of granola bars and candy wrappers.
As the result, I spent much of Saturday afternoon throwing out three full garbage bags of wrappers, broken toy parts/pieces and an enormous amount of spent tissues. No to mention all the stuff he chose not to put away that has now taken up residence in my living room, creating more cleaning/discerning/pitching for me.
But at least, I got his bedroom painted. One down, one to go with less than a week left. Lord help me!