Calvin's cousin Andrew is visiting us this week. He's an only child playing with a third child. The poor kid is getting a crash course in sibling relationships, and the learning curve is steep.
Andrew: Calvin, let's play Wii.
Calvin: Okay.
(time passes)
A: Calvin, this isn't fair.
C: Why?
A: You're shooting down all my planes.
C: And?
A: You should let me shoot down some of yours.
C: No.
A: This isn't fair. You should let me win.
C: Hoping I'll let you shoot down my planes and win is like hoping gravity will stop working.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Where's a House Elf When You Need One?
Sabrina: Mom, can I make a cake today?
Me: Sure, once the kitchen is clean.
Sabrina: Okay, let me know when that's done.
Me: Sure, once the kitchen is clean.
Sabrina: Okay, let me know when that's done.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Hoarders
I'm a thrower. Always have been. I don't get sentimental over stuff. I throw things out like nobody's business. And then I married a non-thrower. To a saver like David, everything has value. Nothing should be thrown out. You might need that 25-year-old map that charts roads that are no longer there, so for God's sake, don't throw it out. My pack rat also has a special filing system called the floor. We don't fight over money, we don't fight over our kids, but we've fought over whether things should be thrown out.
I learned early in our marriage that if I was cleaning and wanted to throw things away, I better do it (a) while he was gone, and (b) make sure the garbage truck picked up the remains before he came home. True story: David came home to find his special filing system of piles of paper on the floor stacked neatly on the desk and two big bags of garbage lined up next to the door. He went through the bags to make sure I hadn't thrown out anything important and/or valuable. By the time he was done, I no longer had my floor, and there was only one bag of garbage left.
He has mellowed over the years. Living in a 500 square foot space for two years in Japan changed both of our perspectives on what was actually necessary. But our son has picked up the cause. Calvin has taken David's pack rat mentality and raised it to near hoarder status. Even true garbage might have value, and I've seen him agonize over whether he should really throw out the used and crumpled post-it notes. It's enough to make me tear my hair out.
Mostly I try to ignore it by closing my eyes when I walk by his room. But since I've injured myself every night tucking him in this week, I decided enough was enough. Calvin was gone all day, so I dove in, taking my phone with me in case I got lost, and letting the girls know to come find me if I wasn't back in a couple hours. Here is what I started with.
And this.
One 33-gallon bag of garbage, one box of books, one bag of clothes, two boxes of toys, and five hours later, this is the result.
Throwers: 1
Hoarders: 0
I learned early in our marriage that if I was cleaning and wanted to throw things away, I better do it (a) while he was gone, and (b) make sure the garbage truck picked up the remains before he came home. True story: David came home to find his special filing system of piles of paper on the floor stacked neatly on the desk and two big bags of garbage lined up next to the door. He went through the bags to make sure I hadn't thrown out anything important and/or valuable. By the time he was done, I no longer had my floor, and there was only one bag of garbage left.
He has mellowed over the years. Living in a 500 square foot space for two years in Japan changed both of our perspectives on what was actually necessary. But our son has picked up the cause. Calvin has taken David's pack rat mentality and raised it to near hoarder status. Even true garbage might have value, and I've seen him agonize over whether he should really throw out the used and crumpled post-it notes. It's enough to make me tear my hair out.
Mostly I try to ignore it by closing my eyes when I walk by his room. But since I've injured myself every night tucking him in this week, I decided enough was enough. Calvin was gone all day, so I dove in, taking my phone with me in case I got lost, and letting the girls know to come find me if I wasn't back in a couple hours. Here is what I started with.
And this.
One 33-gallon bag of garbage, one box of books, one bag of clothes, two boxes of toys, and five hours later, this is the result.
Throwers: 1
Hoarders: 0
Monday, July 18, 2011
Summer Vacation
Having finished my first year as a music instructor, I found myself looking forward to summer vacation. With all that time on my hands, who knows what I could accomplish? I had visions of planting a garden, refinishing the cabinets in my kitchen, learning to play a new instrument, and preparing healthy and delicious meals for my family. Those tasks would definitely take up the first week. After that I could go wherever my whims took me.
The reality? Weeks of extreme slothful indulgence where I have convinced myself that simply bringing one load of clean laundry upstairs for my children to truffle through was actually a task that required a lot of effort resulting in the need for a nap and/or a drink to recover. Who knew summer vacation could be so tiring?
Today, I woke up and felt strange. What was that alien feeling? Deciding not to waste too much time on the problem, I started my day. Here is what I accomplished.
1. A three-mile walk with a friend.
2. Wrote down an extensive list of household chores for my children to do and assigned them in random order.
3. Sat on the couch while watching my children do said tasks.
4. Felt guilty for sitting and watching and not helping out.
5. Started cleaning my bathroom.
6. Stopped cleaning when my sink started to back up.
7. Spent some time debating whether this was a clear sign that I should stop cleaning and wait for my husband to come home and clean the drain, or if I should tackle that job myself.
8. Decided that marital harmony was more important than my gag reflex and started cleaning the drain.
9. Spent some time gagging over the horrible slime I had to extract from said drain and cursing my need for marital harmony.
10. Finished cleaning the bathroom.
11. Sent children off to zoo with their grandparents.
12. Had lunch with a friend.
13. Did some light shopping and had to contend with some snotty salespeople.
14. Spent some time wishing I could pull a Pretty Woman on said snotty people, minus the prostitute part.
15. Made dinner for my family.
16. Revived my husband as he had dropped in a dead faint when he came home to find dinner on the table.
17. Cleaned the kitchen.
18. Read a book and a half.
19. Wrote my first blog entry in months.
Who knows what I'll do next summer?
The reality? Weeks of extreme slothful indulgence where I have convinced myself that simply bringing one load of clean laundry upstairs for my children to truffle through was actually a task that required a lot of effort resulting in the need for a nap and/or a drink to recover. Who knew summer vacation could be so tiring?
Today, I woke up and felt strange. What was that alien feeling? Deciding not to waste too much time on the problem, I started my day. Here is what I accomplished.
1. A three-mile walk with a friend.
2. Wrote down an extensive list of household chores for my children to do and assigned them in random order.
3. Sat on the couch while watching my children do said tasks.
4. Felt guilty for sitting and watching and not helping out.
5. Started cleaning my bathroom.
6. Stopped cleaning when my sink started to back up.
7. Spent some time debating whether this was a clear sign that I should stop cleaning and wait for my husband to come home and clean the drain, or if I should tackle that job myself.
8. Decided that marital harmony was more important than my gag reflex and started cleaning the drain.
9. Spent some time gagging over the horrible slime I had to extract from said drain and cursing my need for marital harmony.
10. Finished cleaning the bathroom.
11. Sent children off to zoo with their grandparents.
12. Had lunch with a friend.
13. Did some light shopping and had to contend with some snotty salespeople.
14. Spent some time wishing I could pull a Pretty Woman on said snotty people, minus the prostitute part.
15. Made dinner for my family.
16. Revived my husband as he had dropped in a dead faint when he came home to find dinner on the table.
17. Cleaned the kitchen.
18. Read a book and a half.
19. Wrote my first blog entry in months.
Who knows what I'll do next summer?
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