Clean up, Clean up, Everybody, Everywhere
I was extremely busy for a couple minutes this morning while the kids played in the other room.* At first, I heard happy sounds from the other room instead of the usual sounds of children stealing toys, hitting each other, and chasing each other. Those sounds can be a good sign, that the kids found something fun to share, or they could be a bad sign, that the kids found something fun and forbidden to share. Soon I heard Abbie singing The Clean Up Song through the door, and that is never a good sign.
I walked into the living room, and saw what was so much fun. They had found the paper shredder, and dumped its contents onto the floor. They were picking up the tiny paper scraps and throwing them into the air, and sliding on top of them across the floor. It was like a warm, dry snowstorm.
I yelled at them and told them to go to their room. I quickly thought better and yelled at them to stay in the living room and clean up their mess. They should have to help me clean up instead of getting to play in their rooms. Then I did any other chore I could think of, something that would keep me from crying over the thousands of tiny paper shards literally littering the living room.
The kids aren’t very good at cleaning, which is a shame because they provide so many opportunities to practice the skill. I have to give them credit for doing a good job picking up the paper this morning, though. Tory grabbed huge fists of paper and dumped it in the garbage just like I asked. Abbie picked up a few scraps of paper every time I reminded her to help clean up. Ian at least didn’t make a bigger mess.
I folded laundry while I watched them work, pleased that they were doing a little of my work for me. That’s only fair since it shouldn’t be “my” work in the first place. I watched Abbie clean. I watched Tory clean. I watched Tory grab the trashcan and dump its contents on the floor, thus creating another opportunity to practice his cleaning skills.
I sent everyone to their rooms at that point. I could do “my” work easier without their “help.” I finished folding laundry before tackling the floor; I still wanted to cry thinking about picking up every tiny scrap of paper, and those scraps would only be harder to clean after being wet with tears.
* I.e. I was in the bathroom.
I walked into the living room, and saw what was so much fun. They had found the paper shredder, and dumped its contents onto the floor. They were picking up the tiny paper scraps and throwing them into the air, and sliding on top of them across the floor. It was like a warm, dry snowstorm.
I yelled at them and told them to go to their room. I quickly thought better and yelled at them to stay in the living room and clean up their mess. They should have to help me clean up instead of getting to play in their rooms. Then I did any other chore I could think of, something that would keep me from crying over the thousands of tiny paper shards literally littering the living room.
The kids aren’t very good at cleaning, which is a shame because they provide so many opportunities to practice the skill. I have to give them credit for doing a good job picking up the paper this morning, though. Tory grabbed huge fists of paper and dumped it in the garbage just like I asked. Abbie picked up a few scraps of paper every time I reminded her to help clean up. Ian at least didn’t make a bigger mess.
I folded laundry while I watched them work, pleased that they were doing a little of my work for me. That’s only fair since it shouldn’t be “my” work in the first place. I watched Abbie clean. I watched Tory clean. I watched Tory grab the trashcan and dump its contents on the floor, thus creating another opportunity to practice his cleaning skills.
I sent everyone to their rooms at that point. I could do “my” work easier without their “help.” I finished folding laundry before tackling the floor; I still wanted to cry thinking about picking up every tiny scrap of paper, and those scraps would only be harder to clean after being wet with tears.
* I.e. I was in the bathroom.
posted by Matt at
11:39 PM
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