It’s Quiet in Here

It’s almost too quiet.  The mother in me keeps thinking, The kids are surely up to no good with all this lack of noise.  But no.  There are no children at home for the moment.  Larisa is on her way home from camp today.  The boys are across the street playing with their cousins.  They’re on an every-other-day schedule with whose house they play at.  Here they have a huge car carpet set up in the loft with about 127 hot wheels all over the place, parked precisely in their parking places.  I’m not sure what they have going on across the street…. but something Lego, I’m sure.

I realized yesterday that I’m not getting much accomplished (in my two days since returning from vacation).  It’s because I don’t have a list.  Diligiently I hunted down my day-timer where I painstakingly make my daily lists….. the last three weeks of pages are blank.  (In my defense, I was gone for two of those weeks!)  No wonder I feel like I haven’t gotten anything done.  Lists are amazingly inspiring.  The thrill of checking off that little box cannot be overrated.  Not only are projects completed, blinds cleaned and closets cleared out, but the little row of boxes is checked off…. and that makes me happy.

Today’s list, that has yet to be made with pen to paper, includes: finish a Bag for Zaza (it’s half done), clean ONE blind (it’s a slow process, but it doesn’t make me cry when I do one a day), empty the suitcase, fertilize the lawn, plant Vinca all over the backyard (has to be done after 7 p.m. due to the temperature for me and the flowers) and de-collate my coupons.  Whew.  But just imagine the internal satisfaction of SIX boxes checked off.  Sweet victory!  That’s more than I’ve done in three weeks.

I also need to make a list for the kids of Things To Do during the summer.  They will not be as thrilled with their list as I am with mine.  Guaranteed.  Theirs includes daily piano practice, 30 minutes of reading, multiplication and division flashcards and chores.  (One measly hour…. MAX!)  Sounds like pure torture, doesn’t it?  I can already hear them moaning, “Mooooom, it’s SUMMER!”  That’s when I show them my list and ask if they want to trade.  They never do.  It works every time.  Do they think I’ll just willingly let their brains rot all summer???  Never!  That’s why I’m the mom.

I’ve Officially Hit PB&J Meltdown

That’s Piled Bits and Junk, not peanut butter and jelly.  Slowly but surely we’ve been bringing more stuff into this house than we’ve been taking out.  It eventually got to me and I started looking around at all the stuff… now I’m not one of those pack rats with piled newspapers from 1946 forward, shoe boxes of twist ties and every rinsed out can we’ve ever opened.  Nothing like that.  But toys are so overrated.  They were neatly stored in labeled plastic bins… but I finally clued in that no one has played with them in four blinkin’ years. 

My meltdown was quickly followed by a plan of action.  I gathered the boys, ages almost 10 and 12, into their rooms with garbage bags and empty packing boxes.  Nothing was safe.  I yanked every last Lego and Star Wars figure out of that closet and asked every single time, “Do you play with this?”  90% of the answers were no.  I didn’t even argue if they said yes.  I put the 10% back in the closet, still in their labeled plastic bins.  The garbage bags were filled with broken, missing part and written on toys for the dump.  Embarrassingly, two large bags emerged.  The still-could-be-played-with toys went into boxes for a garage sale. 

Where did it all come from?  That is the question.  I asked the boys periodically where they got certain toys.  Seems they came from gifts or other garage sales.  THERE IS THE PROBLEM!  Why in the world are we buying other people’s junk so we can bring it home to be our junk????  We don’t go garage saling very often, but still.  It just got crossed off my list of family-friendly activities.

And can I just say that my boys don’t need another Hot Wheel car for the rest of their lives?  They started in small plastic tubs…. and as they accumulated… they advanced several times until reaching the largest uner-bed plastic box that we own.  Good grief.  BUT, the mother with PB&J meltdown says, they do play with them regularly.  Don’t tell, but I did get rid of quite a few that had evidently had fender-benders or mishaps with a hammer and/or Sharpie pen.

Whew.  I feel better with the junk gone.  Now to hit the game closet, the craft closet, the linen closet and our closet before the BIG garage sale day when we sell our junk to other people so they can take it home and claim it as their junk.  :o)  This is recycling at its best.