It was a(nother) slow day chez Johnson last week. Feeling the urge to be constructive, productive, I sought the boys’ opinion. ‘What do you want to do today?’ ‘We want to watch movies all day,’ my oldest gambled. I considered his request. It involved no learning or exploring and it was sure to turn them into life-long couch potatoes.
‘Okay!’ I answered after mulling it over. Maybe if they spent a day in front of the laptop, I could tackle the disaster that’s our ‘office’.
While the blondies watched Tom and Jerry, the babe and I holed up in the office: he, sprawled out on the hot pink exercise mat with a few colorful toys strewn in front of him. And I, sorting through a three inch thick stack of marker drawings.
Apparently the baby hadn’t gotten the memo about my cleaning/organizational frenzy. He wasn’t interested in lying on the floor, playing with toys. He wanted to be held. Preferably while I remained upright…and walking. I hate it when a plan doesn’t come together.
Eventually he fell asleep and I returned to the office with a broom and a dustpan. As I swept, I came across a pair of the professor’s shoes hiding in the corner. With an ominous-looking dark, stubby shape perched upon it. I stared at it, too scared to pick it up.
It took a few seconds before I figured out what it was.
I remembered a day, several weeks before, when the Hen had been walking around the office eating – or not eating – a banana. Our Hen, who sometimes devours bananas and other times takes a bite and hands them back to whoever gave him the disgusting pale fruit.
So I did what mothers all over the world do when they find a dried up chunk of banana on a shoe. I took pictures of it. Because I hadn’t had the presence of mind to document the desiccated pear I’d found stuffed in a toy basket three months earlier. Another ‘special’ moment for me.
My momentum was severely diminished after the banana photo shoot. It turns out that an all-morning movie-a-thon isn’t the cure-all I thought it would be. The blondies got bored after about forty minutes. They started fighting. They dumped legos all over the floor.
And then it was time for lunch and Kindergarten. And the house looked worse than it did before my cleaning ‘frenzy’.
Four days later I picked up the stacks of marker drawings covering the office floor and dumped them in a dark corner in the basement. To be dealt with at a later time.