Kids Are Gross

My kids leave stuff everywhere. When we ask them to clean up, their version goes something like this: kick, throw or push all toys, laundry, coloring books, etc, into the closet or into a storage bin. I used to try to pick up after them every day until I got too frustrated. That saying is true. Cleaning when you have kids is like shoveling when it’s still snowing. So now I try to pick up twice a week so I can vacuum and once a month, I sort through the smorgasbord of stuff piled high in closets and storage bins. What has this taught me about my children? One, they are slobs. And two, kids are gross.

The ten things I most commonly see while picking up around the house:

1. Used tissues

2. Used neon-colored band-aids

3. Random puzzle pieces

4. Tiny little Legos. Ouch.

5. Crumpled up paper

6. Dirty socks (Can also substitute dirty underwear with stain)

7. Loose change

8. A stray Uno card, memory (the game) card, alphabet flash card, or any other kind of card you can think of.

9. A piece of crayon or a chewed on pencil eraser/ marker without its cap

And my personal favorite:

10. Boogers that have been wiped on the walls

What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever found when picking up your kids’ mess?


Killing Time

I sectioned off this time without kids to work on my manuscript, but I’m just not feeling it. I need to do a lot of re-writing and I’m not in the writing kind of mood. The only thing I really feel like doing lately is a whole lot of nothing.

I’ve been spending a lot of time worrying about my daughter. Like how to keep her safe. Guess who figured out how to shut off the alarms on the doors? Hooray to Kindergarten for teaching her to read, and hooray to me for having a daughter who is clever enough to read the word “off” and click the switch in that direction. But boo to the fact that my clever little girl doesn’t have any fear and doesn’t make good choices. And suffers from insomnia and can do I-don’t-want-to-know what while the rest of us are sleeping.

I never realized that being a parent would make you feel so helpless. As much as I want to, I can’t control my kids’ actions. Maybe I can control some little things, like what time they eat, what time they go to bed, but the big stuff is out of my hands. Like making friends and making the “right” choices. Like being safe when I’m not right there to protect them. It’s maddening!