Having a tween doesn't mean what I thought it did. I thought my son would, by now, clean his room by himself. It's simple really, all I ask is that his crap...excuse me, his very important, most treasured belongings, be put away where they belong. Much to my chagrin, I found myself in the position of upholding an edict this afternoon.
Apparently, even though I don't issue many, I need to be more careful about the ones I do issue. See, I have asked him for months to please clean up his room. It wasn't tragically messy, but crap was stuffed and piled in every nook and cranny, and I do mean every. I reminded him that if I had to come in and do it I would most likely remove his most beloved possessions without his consent. I thought I had my ace-in-the-hole when he decided that Jack and Daisy (his two 70 lb. dogs) would be sleeping in his room. Jack needed a new, larger crate. This crate would be identical to Daisy's crate. Each crate is 47L x 23W x 36H -- they are gargantuan. One takes up a huge chunk of floor space, two is just horrendous. We had the new crate and I was tasked with getting it Jack ready before Friday night. Completing my mission required reorganization of furniture and toy storage.
With trepidation I began the excavation of space. I hauled out everything...storage boxes from the closet, the bins of miscellaneous toys, all the games, more stuffed animals than any boy has ever had, and a cache of weaponry. Some I instantly set aside for donation, others I tossed (gasp!), and the rest got moved into another room. In case I wasn't certain that I actually have a boy, I would have figured it out today. I discovered rocks, twigs, bottle caps, paper clips, rubber bands, and pieces of heaven knows what. Oh, and a Zoo Pals pig paper plate with the eyes cut out - I think he was two when that was created. I tossed the pig face and put the rest of the rocks and junk in an empty shoebox I unearthed.
When I was done I closed the door and waited for the arrival of my darling child. Fully prepared to face his wrath with justification and stoicism, I was surprised when upon his arrival he was fairly bursting with excitement and asked me to cover his eyes and 'reveal' his new room. (Think he's seen one too many design makeover shows?) I did as he asked, he walked in and, well, here's the rest of the exchange...
JM: Awesome
Me: Think so?
JM: Yeah! Hey, wait...where's my...(frantically looking around room and into closet)...Mom, what you'd do with my? Where's my?...What's in the trash can? MOM! You threw out my pig mask? How could you?
Me: I told you if I had to do this I would clean it all out (said very gently).
JM: Yeah I know, I just wasn't expecting all of it to be gone.
Me: Monkey, what did you think "all" meant?
JM: Not everything. Where's my bottle cap? Where's my pebble from Big Bear?
Me: Big Bear? You were 3 the one time we went and you kept a pebble? Don't panic, everything hasn't left yet, you have 10 boxes in the other room and we will go through them tomorrow. You can pick 5 things from each box to keep. After that it's the toy box...
JM: YOU ARE NOT TOUCHING MY TOY BOX! How come only 5?
Me: Can I finish? We will clean it out. You don't get to keep all the toys, and stuffed animals. It's time to donate the older things.
JM: Okay, but where's my bottle cap?
Me: We'll deal with it tomorrow.
JM: Seriously Mom, my pig mask? Trash? My room looks great and Jack will love his crate, but I miss my stuff.
And so it boils down to a paper plate with holes in it. Did he look for his PSP? The 52 games for his GBA and DS? Was he even concerned about the GI Joes that he swears he can't live without? Nope. A paper plate, a pebble, and a bottle cap. Those are the only things he worried about. I can't wait for the argument that ensues when I firmly refuse to allow him to keep trash for another 12 years. And when he asks to please keep the lincoln logs that I swear he hasn't played with since he was 5, the answer is "Oh hell no!" I just hope I can keep him from out negotiating me. I can see myself offering the bottle cap in exchange for the lincoln logs and losing badly. And no edicts either, when this task is accomplished I'm looking for edicts anonymous. Can someone please just remind me?
Apparently, even though I don't issue many, I need to be more careful about the ones I do issue. See, I have asked him for months to please clean up his room. It wasn't tragically messy, but crap was stuffed and piled in every nook and cranny, and I do mean every. I reminded him that if I had to come in and do it I would most likely remove his most beloved possessions without his consent. I thought I had my ace-in-the-hole when he decided that Jack and Daisy (his two 70 lb. dogs) would be sleeping in his room. Jack needed a new, larger crate. This crate would be identical to Daisy's crate. Each crate is 47L x 23W x 36H -- they are gargantuan. One takes up a huge chunk of floor space, two is just horrendous. We had the new crate and I was tasked with getting it Jack ready before Friday night. Completing my mission required reorganization of furniture and toy storage.
With trepidation I began the excavation of space. I hauled out everything...storage boxes from the closet, the bins of miscellaneous toys, all the games, more stuffed animals than any boy has ever had, and a cache of weaponry. Some I instantly set aside for donation, others I tossed (gasp!), and the rest got moved into another room. In case I wasn't certain that I actually have a boy, I would have figured it out today. I discovered rocks, twigs, bottle caps, paper clips, rubber bands, and pieces of heaven knows what. Oh, and a Zoo Pals pig paper plate with the eyes cut out - I think he was two when that was created. I tossed the pig face and put the rest of the rocks and junk in an empty shoebox I unearthed.
When I was done I closed the door and waited for the arrival of my darling child. Fully prepared to face his wrath with justification and stoicism, I was surprised when upon his arrival he was fairly bursting with excitement and asked me to cover his eyes and 'reveal' his new room. (Think he's seen one too many design makeover shows?) I did as he asked, he walked in and, well, here's the rest of the exchange...
JM: Awesome
Me: Think so?
JM: Yeah! Hey, wait...where's my...(frantically looking around room and into closet)...Mom, what you'd do with my? Where's my?...What's in the trash can? MOM! You threw out my pig mask? How could you?
Me: I told you if I had to do this I would clean it all out (said very gently).
JM: Yeah I know, I just wasn't expecting all of it to be gone.
Me: Monkey, what did you think "all" meant?
JM: Not everything. Where's my bottle cap? Where's my pebble from Big Bear?
Me: Big Bear? You were 3 the one time we went and you kept a pebble? Don't panic, everything hasn't left yet, you have 10 boxes in the other room and we will go through them tomorrow. You can pick 5 things from each box to keep. After that it's the toy box...
JM: YOU ARE NOT TOUCHING MY TOY BOX! How come only 5?
Me: Can I finish? We will clean it out. You don't get to keep all the toys, and stuffed animals. It's time to donate the older things.
JM: Okay, but where's my bottle cap?
Me: We'll deal with it tomorrow.
JM: Seriously Mom, my pig mask? Trash? My room looks great and Jack will love his crate, but I miss my stuff.
And so it boils down to a paper plate with holes in it. Did he look for his PSP? The 52 games for his GBA and DS? Was he even concerned about the GI Joes that he swears he can't live without? Nope. A paper plate, a pebble, and a bottle cap. Those are the only things he worried about. I can't wait for the argument that ensues when I firmly refuse to allow him to keep trash for another 12 years. And when he asks to please keep the lincoln logs that I swear he hasn't played with since he was 5, the answer is "Oh hell no!" I just hope I can keep him from out negotiating me. I can see myself offering the bottle cap in exchange for the lincoln logs and losing badly. And no edicts either, when this task is accomplished I'm looking for edicts anonymous. Can someone please just remind me?
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