don't throw the baby out with the bathwater

this is a story that i should have written months and months and maybe even a year or so ago.  i didn't because it was too pain full.  time has passed and the burn has lessened a wee bit.  this one needs to go down in record books and so, here goes...

about two years ago, shortly after moving into buser abode (and organizing buser abode), my girls made an epic sized mess in their rooms.  it has happened to every mom.  more than once.  repeatedly, perhaps.

i naively thought they were getting along and being the "bestest of the sisters in world" while momma cooked dinner...  only to later discover that they were more likely the next contestant on "hoarders of the west coast".  i don't know what hurt my heart more...  the fact that they had tricked me into believing that they were rock star sisters or the fact that they had dumped out every single tidy bin in their combined three rooms.

the first time, i took one for the team.  momma sorted the bins and organized the books.  i categorized the barbies and the calico critters and polly's and the pet shops...  while saying evil things under my breath and swearing i would not, could not, ever do this again.  (if you are a mom of boys, just insert legos for that last clump of words.)

the second time it happened, i rallied the troops and made them join in on the sorting fun INSANITY.    it gave new meaning to "four score and seven years ago".  it took FOREVER.  days passed and we were still trying to tidy the mess.  momma was on edge and the girlies looked like they were about to break.  it was not good.  it was a scary time in the buser house and momma warned the team that we would not, could not, EVER do that again.

it lasted for about three days.

and then momma discovered the mess of all messes.  it was bigger and better and messier than mess one or mess two (or the millions of messes that came before those).  again, i had been tricked into thinking that quiet girlie time was equivalent to sisterly bonding and joyful NEAT play time together.

WRONG.

shame on me for allowing a few minutes of quiet play time morph into 30 minutes of momma getting something done around here finally....

as usual, i am off topic.

this third time, i decided the blood was on their hands.  momma was done.  finished.  kaput.  and so i gave them the evening and the next day to make all that they had aided in going askew, back to its rightful positioning.  pops was too young to play this little game, so momma cleaned up her 33% of the disaster.  e, recognizing that momma was not joking around, went to task and completed her 33%, but d, the less than tidy one of the bunch did not understand that this was SERIOUS.

she putzed and she shifted things in her room, but nothing got back to its rightful spot according to momma's labeled bins.  after the original allotted time, momma made a concession.

"d-bugs, you have until the end of the week.  every day you will clean your room until it is done.  you will not play with your sisters.  you will not watch tv.  you will not play alone.  you will finish what you started.  you will do what you have undone.  i mean it.  i'm not taking it back.  this isn't a joke."

(don't judge.  it is what i HAD to do.  i was not happy about it, but the motherhood is not always fair. this was one of those times.)

and so for the remainder of the week (a day or so), d was banished to her room and repeatedly charged with the task of getting it back in order.

until she didn't.

and the week ended.

rut-ro.  momma was in uncharted territory.  both sisters had heard my decree and my reputation was on the line.

"delaney, momma is taking away all of your toys."

(insert sobbing hysterics)

"you can earn them back.  i'm going to scoop up everything on your floor and if you have two weeks of a clean room at bedtime, i will return what i have scooped.  if not, it goes to the donation pile.  we'll give it to a kid who can handle this many cool and amazing toys."

...................................................................................................................................................................

we shall pause this story to insert that the hubs was at a meeting on the night that the big scoop up went down.  momma scooped up all the toys and placed them into a trash bag.  she placed the trash bag off to the side in the garage and announced to the hubs that he should ignore said bag because it contained all of the beloved toys that d-bugs could not muster the energy to put away...  in a weeks time.

...................................................................................................................................................................

upon the completion of two weeks, d had earned her bag of toys back.  she was missing all of her coveted treasures and she had gone to task in accomplishing the "clean room" assignment.  on day 15, i went to the garage to gather her treasures.

but what to my wondering eyes should NOT appear???

the trash bag.

gone.

missing.

hiding behind something else?  no.

hiding under the another pile of crap treasure we store in the garage?  no.

absent.

not to be found.

momma made a quick call to the hubs assuming that he had stashed it someplace safe.

wrong.

for the history books, i will report THAT was not a fun a phone call.  hubs immediately recognized his error and acknowledged that for shizzle he had thrown it away in spite of what i had told him.  he was in trash mode and didn't think twice.  thankfully, momma was in "gracious wife" mode when this call went down and realized that it was an honest mistake.

upon assessing the middle child's room, the hubs and i realized that we had given p-town's dump two american girl dolls (if you don't know what these means, google it.  this was a pricey mistake), many additional american girl doll accessories, pet shops, my little pony's, random riffraff, expensive hair bows, a shirt or two, possibly some unders,  a barbie or two and one of every single barbie shoe that all three girls collectively own, and a large number of books.

ouch.

and d had worked hard to earn them back.

again, uncharted momma territory.  it didn't seem right to punish the girl for an innocent mistake and so momma and daddy went to task in righting our wrong.  we gave her a target allowance to purchase new toys and we re-bought the american girl dolls (with one being a retired doll that we had to buy on e-bay for double the price).

but dare i say, it was a lesson learned.  my girls take me seriously when i tell them that their rooms need to be clean at bedtime and since the dreaded day, we have not needed to fill any trash bags with toys.  it was an expensive lesson.  one we will hear about and feel the pain of for years to come, but a lesson none the less.

(there is no bathwater in this story.  however, there were two babies.)