Tuesday, January 5, 2010
We all have battles we just know to expect to face every day. This is mine. He dumps his entire Lego collection out in the middle of his bedroom floor nearly every day. This isn't the full collection.
There is also the "special parts" pile.
And then there are the completed sets he has setting around his room. Some are on the top of his book shelf. Some are on the bottom of his bookshelf. Some are on his dresser. Some are on his floor.
The dumping part takes him 30 seconds. It takes us a little longer. After we hear the crash (you'd think we'd know to anticipate it by now), it takes about 5 minutes for our rattled nerves to calm.
Please ignore his jeans. They are his favorite jeans and I've been unable to convince him that they make him look like his parents shove bread and water under his bedroom door and let him out only to scrub the floors. I think he's just so excited that he now owns a pair of jeans that fit him in the waist without the need for a belt. If anyone says anything, I'll just say he gets his dressing habits from his grandma.
This is how he starts the clean up process each night. This stage causes him to "accidentally" push quite a few of them under his bed.
Then out comes the dust pan. This gem of an idea came from my mother-in-law. What she lacks in fashion sense, she more than makes up for in housekeeping skills. She can keep house like nobody's business. And the dustpan idea has cut my battle time in half each night.
This photo also reveals my inability to see the whole picture when I'm taking photos. I didn't realize you can see my flash and one of my Pocket Wizards (that I hope to really learn how to use this year) on the bed.
This photo reveals my inability to see the whole story when I'm taking photos. It's the last photo I took of the process. I forgot to take a photo of how fabulous his room looked once he finished. Then again, I'm always so worn out mentally from nagging about doing the job right, it's no wonder I forgot.
But I've learned it's a daily battle worth fighting. Although at 14 it changes from tiny toys to clothing, this is the extent of Caelan's mess, closet included. I haven't decided if this "mess" is rebellion or self-preservation, not wanting the other kids to think he's too weird. He's already at a disadvantage with his mother who sniffs things. And his grandma with the Ugg gardening boots and kooky hat collection. And his dad's zeal for estate sales. And. . . he should just give up that hope now.