Clean your kids rooms

I read a couple of parenting blogs.  Sometimes they are very topical.  One such post was about the Columbine shootings.  I think the 10 year anniversary was recently.  Anyway, the post talked about how the mother of one of the boys had no idea what her son was up to.  She was surprised by what she found when she cleaned out his room after his death. 

Imagine, if the shoes were on your feet and it was your kid that was so depressed that he wanted to blow up a school and kill himself.  You have to imagine that there are signs of that somewhere.  A hint that perhaps this might be going through his head.  This mother never went into her son's room, because that was his private space and she didn't want to be nosy.  The author of the blog I was reading said that it is wise to clean your kids rooms occasionally.  It is an enlightening experience to do that.

I do not have teenagers.  My kids are not old enough for me to be really concerned that they might blow up a school.  I am getting close, but not quite yet.  Still, cleaning their rooms is an enlightening experience.  The boys have been cleaning their own rooms since school started.  But, both rooms had gotten to the point where they needed a good once over. 

I donned my cleaning outfit, not a french maids ensemble but sweats and a t-shirt that have bleach stains on them, I am serious about this.  Thoose rooms were taking on an odor, some machinery was needed.  You know, boy funk.  Anyway, the things I found was educational.

The boys are hording toothbrushes.  Both had about 8 of them under there beds.  All unused, some in their packages some not.  I thought, what are they doing with this many toothbrushes?  When I questioned them about it, I was informed that they did not wish their sister to use their toothbrushes so they were keeping them in their rooms.  But 8 of them???  Really, is that necessary?  A 2 year supply?

I also found Valentines Day and Halloween candy wrappers under their beds.  This has not been there since the respective holidays, but apparently one of them was stockpiling their candy and wanted to finish it off prior to the new haul coming in.  Perhaps this is why they needed so many toothbrushes.

Finally, the source of the funk in Sam's room was a rotting sandwich.  One he didn't want to eat, so he hid under his bed.  In Mac's room it was an apple, left from a late night snack.

I learned that house rules, no eating in your rooms, are disregarded.  That there is a dental hygiene obsession and Mac can budget out his candy really well.  It was educational.  No bombs, other than stink bombs were located.  I wonder what I will find next time.

Piece/Peace

My in-laws left.  The house is back to it's original state, just a stiff wind from crumbling under the clutter.  All 3 kids are at school.  Bob is out doing what ever it is he does during the day.  I am home, in the peace and quiet.

The problem is that there is not one but two cakes in this house.  One vanilla with chocolate fudge frosting and the other apple spice with cream cheese frosting. There is also fresh basil/cheese bread.  So many yummy left overs that seem to be screaming my name.  Come just have one piece.

We all know how that story ends, one piece turns into no more cake or bread in the house.  I am hosting our neighborhood luncheon today, so the people coming will enjoy the cake and bread.  Hopefully take it out of my house so I can sit here and enjoy the peace, without needing a piece.

I also have no intention of cleaning up for these people.  Nope.  Let the dog hair bunnies answer the doors and chase the kids around.  I am pooped!

Forgot About the Van

I was so focused on cleaning my house, I totally forgot that we might leave the house when my in-laws were here.  This means that we have to get in the van.  My van.

Let me digress for a moment, I used to date this guy when I was in college, and we were going to get married.  I used to tell him how I would NEVER drive a mini-van.  NEVER.  I was going to drive something cooler.  I used to tease people for buying mini vans.  I would never, ever, in a million gillion years buy a mini van.

We all know how that story ends.  Anyway, back to the tale at hand.  If we leave my house, which I imagine, given its current state will be top of mind for everyone involved, we have to do that by getting into my van.  How do I put this delicately.  A couple of minutes in the van, and you will long for the sanitary environment of my house.  You will have a whole new perspective on filth.

So, basically, this realization washes over me, while I am playing on the computer.  Beds still unmade.  I decide that since the dog hair rabbits are chasing Hannah, it might be a good idea to just leave the van.  Forget about it.  Concede the fact that I am a filthy pig to my MIL.  I find this...Mom My Ride.

That is it, my story.  I had my ride Mom'ed.  I am no longer lazy and sloppy, but hip and cool.  I am current.  YouTube does not lie.  This video leaves me strangely thankful for the fact that the kids have kicked soccer balls at my car, scratch and damaged the paint with their bikes/scooters/rocks/toy cars/finger nails/keys/chalk/paint/glitter/stickers, left juice boxes in the van so we now attract fruit flys/ants/mice/moles/zebra, and that there are so many toys that we are never bored on the road.  Did I mention that if you feel hungry, just reach down, there are enough crackers/french fries/chicken nuggets/chips/candy/fruit snacks/PB&Js on the floor to nibble on for months.  I feel empowered.

Of course, I left out the fact that my van does not will not ever play kid CDs.  See I am not completely THAT mom, I am cooler.  Sure my mini van is a garbage can on wheels, but dang it we rock out.  Yup, I pimped my mom'ed ride.  You may have my autograph.

Bottom line, my house is a mess and my van smells funny.  Next stop, the kids won't behave I promise you that.

Edit:  After I wrote this, I took Hannah to gymnastics.  I had 45 minutes and needed to pick up some yarn for a baby blanket, and the yarn I wanted was at a store that is in a semi-rural area.  While driving there, no less than 5 skunks were dead on the road.  I hit one, already dead, but still stinky.  Now my van smells like skunk too.  ::shakes fist at gods of mini-vans:: it never ends!