Saturday, January 10, 2009
Winter, thou hast made mine house a pig mess
The winter is making me crazy. Day after day of grey skies, children cooped up in the house wreaking havoc room after room. I think I have picked up the basket of pretend kitchen items at least 7200 times in the last week, only to look over and see Frankie upend the whole thing in search of the plastic chicken. The other day I was cleaning the bathroom to prepare for my sister's arrival and was pleasantly surprised to realize both Frankie and Molly were playing in Frankie's room without shouts of "She's wrecking my tracks! I'm never going to play with you again, Mollsie Dollsie, until I DIE!" (Is it just me or do threats that use someone's affectionate nickname lose a bit of their menace?). I knew, deep down in my heart, that the silence was suspicious, so I suppose I wasn't totally surprised to find every drawer removed from the dresser and every item removed from the drawers so that Frankie could have "houses" for her trains. I often calculate just how much I am willing to pay for them to occupy themselves. Emptying a canister of Puffs out on the coffee table buys me ten minutes? Worth the $1.75. Pulling every book down from a shelf keeps Molly away from Frankie's train table? Lets see, seven minutes of re-shelving at my hourly wage equals...TOTALLY WORTH IT.