Friday, August 2, 2013

Rocks and Cheerios

I'm looking blankly at my computer screen, my paper almost two-thirds done. I just need to dig a little deeper, and I can get it done today, which would be a big relief going into our vacation. And would also be a relief so many days before we go because I would then be able to focus on packing. And cleaning. And weeding. And maybe even squeeze some time in with the kids.

I cleaned half the fridge the other day and felt a great sense of accomplishment. Whether or not I get the other half done is up in the air... so, I just won't look in my vegetable crisper.

I hate cleaning.

But I hate having a not clean house. So what's a girl going to do?

Well, one thing is for sure, this girl should probably find a hiding place for Finleigh's rock collection that she brought home from camp a few weeks ago. A benign looking little bag of coloured and sparkled rocks that she likes to carry around. For she discovered that they can indeed be weapons this morning as she chucked them at her brother and around the room. No longer a cute memento of camp, they are symbols of destruction.

And I should probably attempt to fix the toy box that used to be the boys', but now houses Finleigh's dress-up clothes. After living in our house for as long as Finleigh has, it has finally been found as an object of Finleigh's rage. Via her feet.

At least I was able to clean up the Cheerios she suddenly tossed across the floor this morning. One minute looking out the window, munching away, the next minute yelling about something with her bowl of Cheerios spread across the room. One never knows what will set her off. And as I swept them up, I found a coffee bean in the mix. Oh my, do I ever need to do a proper clean.

So, the boys have done a lot of hiding this morning... especially when the rocks came out.

But, I can't finish with all this destruction, because in between these bouts of craziness comes the sweetness that I could not live without. The squeeze she gave me this morning as she said for the fourth time, "I love you mommy." The chat we had last night where she looked at me straight in the eye and told me about how her uncle was so big, spreading her arms out as far as she could go. Singing Old MacDonald with me this morning as I tinkered away at the piano, after she asked me to come play with her.

How she told daddy when he got home last night that she got to see mommy's vagina.

That was her exciting news. Mommy's vagina. Perhaps I should have rescheduled that pap.

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