Kids on Vacation!

When Mom propositioned to sweep my kids away to Branson for a week, I have to admit that I wasn't too thrilled with the idea. I mean, I like having my kids around. Sure, they're messy. They dominate the conversation. They're incredibly expensive. They eat lots. But, gosh, I love 'em. But what could I say? No?  They have jobs to tend to?

So, after a teary goodbye Saturday night, our kids took off with my parents. And, it's actually been kind of... AWESOME! Now, I do miss them. Really I do. Can't wait to see them tomorrow when they return. But the last few days with my hubby have been really sort of fun. I remembered why I married him and he remembered why he married me. For some reason, I've been much less bitchy and he's hasn't been nearly a...well, he's been very nice.

What's going on? We have great kids! It's so strange to feel this way... And answer me this:

My kids have a list of chores every single day, so logic will tell you that when they are home, my house should be sparkling clean for the summer. This week it should be a disaster since they are gone! But no. It is quite the opposite. Truly, an enigma. Or not.

Kids on vacation with my parents - this was in Hawaii.

But the house is much too quiet. And it's starting to get boring around here. We need them back. After all, absence does make the heart grow fonder. As a matter of fact, I can't locate my husband right now. Honey? Oh, Honey? Where are you?

Back to the Real World

So after a lovely vacation I went back to earn my pay. Starting back on a Thursday had some nice benefits. Suddenly, I feel compelled to take up a cause for the two-day work week. This CFO has done no math on the business case yet, so not sure if my argument will fly...I'll keep you posted.

Anyway, I told my kids that I'd do my best to keep a cheery attitude after I started back to work. Translation: when I come home after a long day, I won't be bitchy. After all, who cares if the house has a little mess? Well....

First day back...kids have two chores for the day. Only two.

1. Fold and put laundered clothes away. (Threads were scattered throughout the laundry room in hampers and line-drying as I had not had time to do much else after a quick trip to Kansas City.)
2. Clean hamster cage.

Most importantly - COMPLETE CHORES IN THAT ORDER. Since the hamster cage is cleaned in the laundry room, I didn't want any of Flash's poop hanging on my linen capris.

When I got home that night, I was pleasantly surprised to see Alex scrubbing the kitchen counter and explaining that she had just popped a Tombstone in for supper. Perfect! I told her. Things were going beautifully.

"And you finished chores?"

"Yep! They're all done."

Ahhh. I'm feeling pretty darn good about life. Then guess what I had to go and do? Veer off into the laundry room. And while all the hampers were gone, my stomach plummeted as I noticed my t-shirts, capris and shorts all hanging above the counter where (you guessed it) the hamster cage is cleaned. And yes, there was evidence of hamster bedding on the counter. Which very well means there could've been hamster poop all over my freshly-laundered clothing.

But instead of yelling at my well-meaning kids, I calmly explained the rationale for putting away the laundry before cleaning the hamster cage. Now, my kids would've had to actually push the clothing out of the way to clean the hamster cage. The t-shirts would've been hitting their faces. So it amazes me that they didn't at least take off the clothing and lay it away from cage-cleaning station. What were they thinking? Why can't they think of these things? Okay, calm down. It doesn't matter really, does it? Nevertheless...I hope they understand now.

I kissed them on their sweet and silly heads and told them thanks. Then taking a deep breath, I stepped outside to enjoy the aroma and the abundance of my phlox.

Yes, tonight I'm reverting back to a photo of my flowers....later I'll capture some more vacation photos. Wait til you see the ridiculous roller coaster we endured. Talk about silly.

The Chore List

It seems that every generation, after attaining a certain age, believes that kids "just don't know how to work these days." Doug and I must have reached that age, since we've noticed a certain reticence among our own children to take on any work that involves physical labor. But we're determined not to let Alex and Cole become lazy, so almost every day they're assigned chores. Honestly, Alex is learning to do laundry very respectably. (I didn't learn this until college.) And Cole, well, he tries. And he even seems to take a great amount of pride in cleaning the toilets.

The first time Cole was assigned the task of toilet-cleaning(there are four toilets, he gladly took off with his bucket of supplies which includes two different sizes of scrubbers, a scraper (don't ask) and of course toilet bowl cleaner. Alex helped with one toilet and sent him to the basement. I was in the kitchen when Cole came back upstairs with the bucket of supplies in one hand, and a half-eaten cookie in the other.

"Oh, Cole! You can't eat cookies while you're scrubbing toilets."

"But I put it down on the floor while I scrubbed."

Ok. Go ahead and savor the rest of that cookie then.

The other night Cole was put on toilet-duty again. There was no cleaner in the supply bucket because I had just purchased a new bottle. So I opened the new bottle and away he went. I wasn't allowed to come near the bathrooms until he was done. He wanted to surprise me with his excellent porcelain-scrubbing abilities.

He came out of his third bathroom a little distraught. "Mom, I can't finish! I'm out of cleaner."

"Out of cleaner? I just gave you a new bottle."

He smiles. "I know! I wanted to get them REALLY clean."

As I began the inspection, the fresh smell of the first bathroom hit me about two feet outside of the room. So what if his scrubbing was less than par? At least the bathrooms smelled clean. He had certainly missed a few spots, but I didn't care. I was just happy that he was taking pride in his work - a seemingly great foundation for developing a strong work ethic. Even if you eat cookies on the job.