From mid-June to mid-July I hang up my teaching responsibilities and trade them in for Stay-at-home Mom status. I cherish this time with my kids. It never lasts long enough.
Yesterday, my 4 year old son passed out on the couch. I say “passed out” because he no longer naps. Just ask him. But, if it gets quiet enough, long enough, on a late summer afternoon…
I took the opportunity to sweep and mop the family room. After scoping out the room on what to start on first, I noticed, this is not a quick pick up and spot clean…this is a crime scene.
”This…is a crime scene”
What is this? A McNugget? Our McDonald’s has been closed for renovation…for weeks!
3 days ago I did a thorough cleaning…I even MOVED the furniture!
Crimes were committed. Among them were…
- Eating ALL the popcicles within 48 hours.
- Cupcake crumbs and wrappers of cupcakes they claimed they did not eat.
- A cheese stick that resembles more of a stick than cheese at this point.
- Dried. Yellow. Play-Doh…for a moment I thought it was scrambled eggs which would have also made sense.
- A pinecone.
- 4 seasons of now outgrown batons…again 3 days ago these were in the the garage sale pile.
- A dinosaur in distress
- Play-doh lids from said dried dough. Obviously trash, am I right?
About the time these piles were formed and ready to go into the trash, The Afternoon Couch Crasher wakes up. He discovers I am about to throw away the piles…
He frantically goes to each pile.
Son: ”Not my RANCOON!”
Me: “You mean, pine cone?”
Son: “Yeah, my rancoon…”
His tiny fingers save it from the pile. Then, he spots the yellow play-doh lid. “Not my LID!” Which sounds more like “Lee-udd” from his whiney, Texas toddler lips.
He rescues it along with a few other “treasures” and puts them “in a safe place.” My sweet boy proceeds to voice the injustice that just occurred. “It’s not nice to throw away little bo-ees toe-ees (boys’ toys) when they are not look-ing”
3 hours later…these treasures are once again on the floor…forgotten until the next cleaning.
What knowledge is there to gain here? What is the take away?
”One Mommy’s trash is a another little boys’ treasure?”
”If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again…in 3 days…when the family room becomes a crime scene once more?”
I choose to take it in stride and let this be my take away…
“Let them be little…”
One day I will no longer hear the “thud, thud, thud” of little feet hitting the floor of our old pier and beam home. I will long for those tiny little fingers to reach out…
Our house will be too quiet once again…
Today, I will clean the crime scene…I won’t scold them and shame them…I will simply ask for their help in cleaning…it really won’t be helpful to me and I will have to retrace their steps and get the residual sticky spots…but to them, they were “mommy’s big helper.” Today I will choose to let them be little.