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Sunday, November 2, 2014

S.O.S - Send Out Search (party)

The boys rooms are a mess. 

M.E.S.S.

Despite sending the boys in their rooms for what is meant to be a ten minute quick tidy up - which won't bring miracles but will help their rooms look less like a toy catalog has vomited up everywhere. 

{Kaylee Clean Your Room by Diane McAffee}

Dress ups are on the floor, stripped off clothes hanging all over the dress up tub, puzzle pieces tipped out with the boards discarded randomly on every surface. Cars, trucks, diggers (front end loaders to be specific), Lego, super heroes & their web shooting accessories litter the floor just waiting for the next unobservant, tender footed casualty to walk in & fall victim to their small painful tactics.

Robe doors left open, shoes flung to the floor - not a matching pair in sight. Coat hangers dropped to the bottom of the robe, pillows shoved on the shelves from a previous two minute clean up during the ten minute room clean. At least something was done, other than sitting down playing in the scene of destruction. 

That right there is the source of my dilemma. Playing. 

Their bedrooms is the one place they can claim as their own. I try not to enforce too many restrictions - I don't expect them their bedrooms to be Pinterest worthy every minute, if rarely at all. But I think I do have the expectation that I should be able to walk in, without first needing to cautiously clear a path with my feet before proceeding any further.



It is the first area they can go to & let their imagination carry them away. Or anywhere in the house, because it's a pigs might fly kind of day when there isn't a primary colored something-or-other along with several super hero emblem toting figurines & a collection of anything transport based found in every room. Including our en suite. Not that I have a problem with this, I'm merely just stating a fact.

Often they are asked to clean up after themselves. Specifically, say, if they were playing with Lego, only to abandon it minutes after dumping the entire tub out {to find one wheel} then dashing off to play superheroes/shops/hide & seek...or party crash the kitchen for more food. But sometimes when they are all playing nicely or I can see they are in wrapped up in their play based world I leave them. Play is the most important aspect of childhood - who am I to interrupt.


But it's all gotten a little out of hand. What started out as a few bits n pieces left out has morphed into something bigger than any four or six year old could handle. Now when they are asked to tidy their rooms it's more of a 'damage control' scenario. We're working off a triage based system - just make it safe to enter.

So my spur of the moment decision to sign up to NaBloPoMo - National Blog Posting Month, & take on the challenge of blogging every day for the month of November with BlogHer is really ill timed on my part. With the clean washing piled up on the couch waiting to be folded, two bedrooms suffering in the aftermath of Hurricane Blake & Cyclone Will (plus a Jack induced toy Tsunami), toilet floors to be cleaned up & moped after every visit from Will, who believes he is now big enough now to bypass the potty & use the toilet. Even though his legs are still a little to short to enable him to reach the intended destination, requiring the utmost caution & vigilance when approaching the loo. We've also been organizing kindergarten fundraising events & birthday parties, plus plain ol' tiredness & can't be effed procrastination disease, which have also put me behind the eight ball. 

So I don't know, do I keep the responsibility to clean up their rooms on their shoulders, even though it has reached cataclysmic proportions. At least for the next month while the to-do list is longer than our grocery shopping list. Or do I make it a priority, spend a whole (school) day bringing everything back to Mother in Law visiting conditions, then put the onus back on the minions to not let their rooms reach devastation status again.

I guess if you don't hear from me for a period exceeding forty eight hours then you could hazard a guess that I ventured into the danger zone & a search party is required.

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