TOY BOX! (or) WHY ARE THERE DINOSAURS IN MY UNDERWEAR DRAWER?!

 

I lamented to my girlfriend about the woes of a child’s crap all over the place. EVERYWHERE. In places they had no business being. It was annoying to constantly remind/harass him to put away his toys. Though understandably, not everything fit in his “toy box”. He was using two storage bins as toy boxes but they were so full and so narrow and deep that things easily got lost. Especially small things like Bey Blades and Matchbox Cars. And my (lazy) child would not look beyond the Captain America shield or the Spider Man mask sitting on top of the pile.

So my girlfriend offered to make a proper toy box. And what a toy box she made!

It’s wider and shallower so things don’t get buried. There’s a sliding/removable tray to keep those little things separate.  And there’s a sword storage bin attached to the side. You know, for his Power Ranger sword, the TMNT sword, the Whatever-That-Other-Cartoon-Thing-Is-Called sword, and for all the stupid craptastic $10 blinking light saber swords that I am a sucker enough to buy from the circus and the fair and the amusement park. Yeah, the ones that then break within a day or two. You know exactly what I’m talking about. I once hated those fucking things. But with the new toy box, hell even that shit looks kinda awesome. Plus, he’s  more inclined to clean up his toys and put them away. Cause he has a shiznit new toy box to put them in.

 

 

 

Not this hill, not today

There’s a saying that I am fond of: “This is not the hill upon which to die.”

It reminds me that some battles are just not worth fighting. As Elsa says, just let it go. Save your energy for the real crazy. For a month I let go my school work to dig into starting a new job. This week I’ve let go the laundry, the dishes, the litter box (gah!), and feeding the child (praise pizza delivery!) because I’ve been sick. Yesterday I just smiled and warned them not to fall when my students decided to climb into the trees to do their outdoors drawing. And I didn’t say a word when I finished cooking dinner one evening and found the boy sitting on the living room floor in his underwear, eating candy, and playing Mario Kart. Instead I just put dinner on the floor and called next game.

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