Down With The Sickness

When my husband calls in sick and hides in bed, I sometimes whisper to myself "it must be nice to call in sick. I wish I had that luxury."

As a Mom, when you're here by yourself, there is no "out". The kid needs to eat, needs to be tended to, and the option to just check out mentally, lay in bed and recover isn't available to me.

There is, I'm learning, a middle ground. A place where Mommy sits on the couch like a sack of mucusy garbage and allows her daughter to do anything she'd like, as long as no one's being hurt and nothing of real value is being destroyed. As I type, snot bubbling from my nose, my head foggy, and my non-existant energy being drained, my dear daughter is TP'ing the kitchen. She's quiet and it's costing me almost nothing. Normally, of course, I'd tell her that it's wasteful and toilet paper is not a toy. I, however, feel far from normal, and desperate times call for desperate measures. At this point, I'd let her paint with ketchup if it meant just 5 more minutes of nursing my swollen sinuses in relative quiet.

Of course, the real relief comes in those two very special words... "Daddy's Home!"

What was I thinking??

For the last two years I've allowed my OCD to dictate how I put away beaner's toys. Blocks get put away with other blocks, jewelry goes in it's case, food in the play kitchen, Little People in their bin....and so on, and neverendingly so forth. It was getting so time consuming and yet, I kept doing it. Until this week, that is. Something snapped in my brain and I had a moment. I literally said out loud "if no one else cares how they're sorted, why do I?"
Let me tell you folks, it was a frigging epiphany or something equally as awesome and rare. I giggled with maniacal glee as Little People were thrown in with the tea set, blocks started cavorting with dinky cars, and, GASP!, puzzle pieces were thrown haphazardly in a bucket instead of being put back in the puzzle. Once I get more bins for the Expedit, there will be more toy mingling happening as everything gets thrown in together.

It may not seem like much to some people, but to break that little compulsion of mine is a HUGE deal and really a massive time saver. It only took 2 years of meticulous toy separating for me to finally say enough is enough.

Now, if only I could convince Beaner that she really doesn't need to sleep with her entire book and toy collection....