Monday, September 22, 2008

Why would she do that?

Today is one of those days. You know the type, you wake up and actually feel motivated to do *stuff* . Not just any stuff, but stupid stuff. Stuff that doesn't need to be done, maybe even stuff that is better left undone?

Yeah, I really need to learn how to ignore those pesky motivational urges when they hit.

Today I was motivated to clean my girl's room. Which is really silly, because I never feel motivated to do that.

I have a few basic rules when it comes to their room.

No Food (that's a biggie, I've been know to foam at the mouth and spout incoherent gibberish when I find food in their room).

If you wear it and want it cleaned, put it in the hamper. I hate playing hide and seek with the dirty laundry. The dirty laundry always wins. Me thinks it cheats or something.

If it's been cleaned put it away. If you don't mind smelling like you've rolled around on the floor prior to leaving the house (and looking significantly wrinkled as if you had, too) then don't worry about this rule. Just toss the clean clothes where ever you feel like. Except into the dirty laundry hamper. Do that and Mom is going to foam at the mouth and spout gibberish again.

If I ask you to vacuum, clear a path on the floor first. I guarantee that while you may be terribly distressed that you just sucked up your favorite beaded necklace, you're nowhere near as distressed as Mom is that her vacuum just choked on your favorite necklace and died.

Keep it picked up enough so that it isn't a fire hazard. That's just common sense, which unfortunately as they come closer to the teenage years seems to be diminishing, so I had to make it a rule.

The last rule is a relatively recent one, but important nonetheless. If there are smells emanating from your room that cause passerby's to gag and pass out, find the source and dispose of it.

I had to enforce that last rule when Thing 1 went away to camp. Apparently they played in the lake while wearing shoes. Thing 1, being the thoughtfully thoughtless person that she is, put her wet shoes in a plastic bag so as not to ruin the rest of the things in her duffel bag.

I would actually have applauded her efforts if she had not, while unpacking said duffel bag, removed the bag with the wet shoes and just tossed it into the corner of the closet.


Three weeks later when I found the source, I tossed the bag in the trash and came up with the last rule.

The mess and clutter do not really bother me. I can always shut the door so that I can't see it. Unless it's really REALLY cluttered, like it was today. Then I can't even find the door, let alone shut it.

So while my charming little ladies were at school today I went in armed with cleaning supplies, fresh linens and garbage bags. I actually did pretty good and had it decently picked up within a few hours. My mistake is when I noticed they had about two dozen jewelry boxes and the like to store their treasures in scattered across the dresser.

Surely I could condense these so there were only a dozen or so total? I dumped the contents from a few of them and designated a couple to hold specific things. This one would be good for hair ties, this one could hold the five thousand tubes of clear flavored lip gloss they aren't allowed to own or wear, this one is for good jewelry and that one is for junk jewelry.

I had everything sorted and reorganized and had just finished putting them back on the freshly dusted dresser when I spied it. Tucked back in a corner behind everything else, nearly hidden from view was one more jewelry box.

It was a cute little thing, shaped like a heart and covered in red leopard print velvet. I just knew it had to be Sky's, as it fit her to a tee and was on her side of the dresser. I almost just left it, after all, what was one more jewelry box? I had just gotten rid of a baker's dozen or more so did I really need to reorganize this one too? Couldn't I just leave it there and take care of it at a later date?

Unfortunately for me I was in "the zone" cleaning wise and it would have bugged me all day if I didn't finish what I started. In hindsight I realize I need to learn to ignore this feeling as well the motivational feeling one.

I picked the cute little box up, figuring it would be more junk jewelry... maybe some trading cards or a stash of change that I could deposit in her piggy bank. I held it in both hands and used my thumbs to pop the lid off so I could see the contents.

Oh Holy Freaking Hell!!!

All thought fled my mind as I screamed like a girl and threw the box and it's contents as far from me as I could. It hit a wall by the beds, bounced off and came back towards me causing me to panic and bash my shin on the dresser as I scurried to get out of the way.


Please tell me who in their right mind would keep a collection of cicada shells in a velvet heart shaped box?

No, scratch that. Who in their right mind would keep a collection of cicada shells?

I live in Ohio. Cicadas are not an unusual sight. I have had them land on me. I have held them in my hands to show my children they shouldn't be afraid of them. I have rescued them from my sweet babe who has never even considered being afraid of the things. Why would you be afraid of something that looks and sounds so funny buzzing and flapping it's wings in a vain attempt to get away from the drooling giant holding it by the legs and shrieking with laughter?

My point is, I'm not afraid of the things. Unless of course I happen upon 30 some odd shells when I'm least expecting it.

Then I have a slight heart attack and it takes four hours for my heart to stop racing and my breathing to regulate.

Aren't children fun?

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