The Project
It's been months. I quit asking and nagging and requiring because there was schoolwork and gifted work and the SAT and these were all things that seemed bigger, more important, more significant.
But it has been driving me nuts.
Now that the SAT is over, now that all catch up work is done for gifted, now that it has driven me nearly to the edge of insanity I cried uncle. And I gave him one week to remedy the situation. Last Monday I gave him one week to get his room clean.
Or I was going to clean it myself.
When I was in middle school, my room was a disaster. I can remember my dad finally sitting down with me for what seemed like an entire Saturday and cleaning every.single.part.of.my.room. Every desk drawer, every nook in my closet, every single space imaginable. And he was not a keeper. He was a tosser. One who believed the ability to de-clutter was a godly attribute.
So I've been there. But now I'm the parent and I can't take it any longer. Perhaps it's because we live in this tiny little stupid apartment and it's not so easy to just shut the door and ignore the mess. Maybe it's because I remember how frustrated my dad used to get and it makes me now feel like that's my responsibility as a parent.
But I think it's mostly because I refuse to raise a lazy child. I gave slack on chores while he tried to sort out his time managment skills for homework. He's had months. And now I'm done giving so much slack.
So, today, my day off, I allowed myself to go back to bed after putting him on the bus. I've just finished breakfast and I am now going to put on some music and grab the trash bags and conquer his room.
I already have friends lined up who are interested in some of Flash's Star Wars toys that he has outgrown. I am prepared to donate the books he no longer reads to the library. I will not toss that which is precious to the boy. But I will not allow this disaster to continue.
Wish me luck.
(And come find me if you don't hear back by dinner.)
But it has been driving me nuts.
Now that the SAT is over, now that all catch up work is done for gifted, now that it has driven me nearly to the edge of insanity I cried uncle. And I gave him one week to remedy the situation. Last Monday I gave him one week to get his room clean.
Or I was going to clean it myself.
When I was in middle school, my room was a disaster. I can remember my dad finally sitting down with me for what seemed like an entire Saturday and cleaning every.single.part.of.my.room. Every desk drawer, every nook in my closet, every single space imaginable. And he was not a keeper. He was a tosser. One who believed the ability to de-clutter was a godly attribute.
So I've been there. But now I'm the parent and I can't take it any longer. Perhaps it's because we live in this tiny little stupid apartment and it's not so easy to just shut the door and ignore the mess. Maybe it's because I remember how frustrated my dad used to get and it makes me now feel like that's my responsibility as a parent.
But I think it's mostly because I refuse to raise a lazy child. I gave slack on chores while he tried to sort out his time managment skills for homework. He's had months. And now I'm done giving so much slack.
So, today, my day off, I allowed myself to go back to bed after putting him on the bus. I've just finished breakfast and I am now going to put on some music and grab the trash bags and conquer his room.
I already have friends lined up who are interested in some of Flash's Star Wars toys that he has outgrown. I am prepared to donate the books he no longer reads to the library. I will not toss that which is precious to the boy. But I will not allow this disaster to continue.
Wish me luck.
(And come find me if you don't hear back by dinner.)
Comments
(And if it's anything like my brother's room was when we were growing up, you might want to bring a big stick in case you run into wildlife...)
And, I can relate to your dad - I am a "tosser" too. But, I toss anything and everything that I can - broken & not broken alike! If I can't find a place for it, think its junk, hasn't been played with in a very long time, or, yes, is broken, it goes in the garbage bag. The problem is when the kids look into the bag and see their stuff....oh well!