It was a beautiful and sunny Sunday. Anticipation of the first football Sunday was upon us. I had high hopes for this Sunday. A list was made. Unfortunately I woke up with a terrible head cold. Every part of me ached and moaned for anything to ease the pain. Determination was within me just the night before. But nothing was going to get accomplished.
The day moved slowly by. I had no energy. No strength to play. My children most definitely got a lot of free range. I prayed to make it through the day. It all appeared to be going smoothly until early afternoon. I wanted to get something accomplished. I had a spark of determination. So as I weaved in and out of the hundreds of toys sprawled across the entire house, I made it to my closet. Today was apparently the day for the girls to set up most of their toys in my bedroom. There was not only all of their barbies but all of Barbie’s friends came over and had a big bash. It was chaotic.
I went to my closet for a simple piece of clothing. Socks. Just two little pieces to keep my feet warm as I went downstairs to work on my project. As I grabbed my socks I hopped on the bed thinking “hey this will be an easier way”. Boy was I completely wrong. As I hopped out of bed I realized quickly that there were still toys all over my floor. The land mine exploded. It happened so quickly yet seemed to occur in slow motion.The wobbles, the trying to gain balance, the attempt to not let any swear words slip. The toys won. I was defeated in about five seconds. I literally shot back up to make sure nothing was broken. Then the aches and pains. The looking down at my toes and seeing one quickly begin to swell. The indescribable pain pulsating through my arm. The girls were staring at me like they were front row at a freak show.
This was the day that I almost threw everything away. Anything in my path I was tempted to toss in the trash and not give it a second thought. I was furious at being sick. I was furious that I let the girls create such a mess. I was furious that I was so clumsy in my thoughts that I tripped and fell. Nothing was safe. I have never gotten so close to this point. The girls could feel this. It must have been something they saw in my eyes because without any effort on my part, the girls put away every single toy that they could find. No complaints. No whining. They knew they went to far. They were lucky.
Obviously when I hurt myself the girls will clean their toys. I do not want that to be a reoccurring event so that the girls will clean with no issues. So moms, what are some ways that you use to get your children to clean without the battle?