Going Ape S***

They have until I come back downstairs.

If the house is not neater than it was when I left, their igloos are going away.

She had tripped. He had broken something. Within five minutes of each other.

I offered to help and he kept playing. I gave instructions and she intentionally stepped on stuff for fun.

Enough. I'm tired of all the toys everywhere.

I see the value of the individual toys--and we weed them out periodically, but they play with the remaining ones regularly, in rotation--but as a conglomerate they oppress me. So many pieces, all jumbled together in different games, all at the same time, between 3 different floors, organized in dramatic play that continues for days. Sure, creativity, imagination, fun. Oh, yeah, I'm the coolest mom with the funnest house.

And sometimes I'm good with that, recognizing the impermanence, realizing that in 5 years I will gladly trade annoying electronic game systems and cell phones and the like for a good Lincoln Log set, even if it is scattered across the floor. But that doesn't always help my mindset. See, I'm a fairly neat person, not always spic-n-span clean, but I do put everything back where it goes the majority of the time. And, I work here. And live here. So having stuff all over drives me nuts after awhile.

And getting them to clean up is worse than pulling teeth.

It's not like there is nowhere to put the toys--we have tons of storage, labeled, sorted. Clear as day where the musical instruments and costumes and fake food go. And I've cleaned up with them a zillion times. I've broken it into smaller tasks, assigned areas, suggested counting, or even stood back and let them do it their way, either after each session, before dinner, at the end of the week. Nothing works.

It always comes to the ultimatum: clean it up or I will, with a garbage bag for good. I don't think they totally get it, or believe me--I'm not sure I believe me.

So, please, those of you who buy gifts for the kids, keep the little pieces to a minimum. Because they might all just end up in the trash.

I've heard cleaning noises and they've just called me down. Wish us all luck.

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Update: Well, no toys have been trashed nor igloos dismantled, but their notion of clean is different than mine. For now, it will do.