Ain’t Nobody Got Time For Cleaning

Everyone knows that kids have an aversion to doing chores. Say the C-word, and you’ll hear the groaning and complaining start. Asking them to help with things around the house instantly brands you an Asshole Parent, one who clearly doesn’t love them. I don’t much like doing chores either, but spending more time dragging one’s feet than the chore actually requires to be completed — and having to do it anyway — baffles me.

Baby Girl likes to help me with my chores sometimes — the more likely it is that something will break, the more she wants to help. (And I’m sure that when she is more capable of doing these chores in a few years, she’ll develop an aversion to them, too.) However, when it comes to picking up her toys, she acts like doing so is torture and often refuses to do it. The threat of taking away a toy does little. When she’s in Stubborn Mode, she’d prefer losing every toy she owns to giving in and doing what she’s told.

Rather than whine, last week Baby Girl got a little creative with her attempt to get out of picking up stuff.

While straightening up the living room, I told Baby Girl to pick up the stuffed animals she had been playing with. She had been doctoring them and had left them strewn across the couch.

“Mommy, I’m just too young to pick up toys,” she told me.

Too young. That’s quite a mouthful for someone who’s too young to pick up her mess. After suppressing a giggle, I informed Baby Girl that if she was too young to pick up her toys, then she was too young to have them and that they’d go in storage. She put them away, and with minimal complaints for a change.

What’s the best excuse you or your kid has given to get out of doing chores?

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Summer Busyness

Things have been busy. And I mean busy. With only a couple weeks left until Little Man starts back school, we’ve been trying to do everything left on our summer list. My lists are always very…ambitious. I way over plan things. Whether it’s what I’m going to get done around the house with a few hours to myself or what we’re going to do during summer vacation, I always plan for about four times as much as is possible to do.

As such, I am a bit behind on blogging. I have started over a dozen drafts, but haven’t gotten anything together yet. And I won’t even start on how far behind I am on reading blogs. But, we are doing so much around here. We’re painting and hiding rocks as part of the Kindness Rocks Project, doing science experiments, doing lots of artsy stuff, and are going lots of fun places. We’re making all kinds of memories! (And I’m fulfilling lots of orders for my little vinyl decal side thing, which is great, too.)

Here are a couple of quick doodles I did last week. Hopefully I’ll finish one of my drafts over the next couple of days and play a little catch up on reading y’all’s posts. I’ll probably wait until school starts back to do the next guest post doodle.

My husband vs. me. And, hey, arms that don’t look like penises!
They never take just one bite.

How is your summer going so far? 

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The Fun Bag

Back when I was a kid, an older cousin (who was more like an uncle) gave me a Crown Royal bag. It had some money and a buckeye nut in it and was immediately one of my favorite things. What’s not to love about a cute little drawstring bag, right? And then my grandmother saw it. She was less than thrilled with the bag and didn’t want me to keep it because people might think that we were drinkers. Between that and a cigar box my dad gave me, clearly I was out to tarnish the family’s reputation.

A couple decades later — with little in the way of a good, wholesome reputation — my husband and I have accumulated a few of these little bags. We have been known, on occasion, to go to the Alphabet Store and purchase the purple bags. Sometimes I’ll get a green bag, since that holds the apple flavored whiskey. (I’m not usually a whiskey drinker, but the apple whiskey mixed with apple juice is amazing.) Those bags usually make their way into Little Man’s hands since they’re awesome for the hundreds of rocks, twigs, pieces of metal, chunks of cement, twist-ties, and other odd things he hoards.

One day we decided to go to Chick-Fil-A for a little lunch and playtime. They have an indoor playground, so we can usher the kids in, stack some chairs in front of the door, and then enjoy our lunches without waffle fries being thrown about. Or something like that. Anyway, Little Man asked if he could bring a toy in and was told that was fine. Just as we reached the door, my husband gasped.

The fun bag:

“Fun bag” is definitely the right term.

“You can’t bring that in here!”

My husband said and made Little Man take the fun bag back to the car since he didn’t think it was “appropriate to take in a family establishment.” Party pooper. In reality, I think we would all benefit from having a fun bag while being subjected to the play area at Chick-Fil-A, or any other place where kids are hyped up on ice cream and sweets, for that matter.

So…what would be in your fun bag?

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My Favorite Toy

Ever since we grew our family by having Baby Girl, I’ve learned a few things. For one, I learned that there is no age limit on riding in those little Coupe cars (or other ride-on toys) intended for toddlers. If you can fit, you can attempt to ride, even if you’re 9 years old and your knees are up to your chin. (Yes, there is probably a call to the fire department to extract a child from a plastic car in our future.) Another thing I’ve learned is that you’re never too old to eat puffs (those fruit flavored cereal snacks for the babies old enough to crawl). Judging by how quickly Little Man would down these things, apparently they are akin to manna from heaven.

And I’ve also learned that nothing makes a toy more appealing than a sibling showing the least bit of interest in it.

Sigh.

Can y’all relate?

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