How to Prevent Children from Running Away

Oldest daughter has threatened to run away. For the 5th time this week. And who can blame her? After all, I did pick her up in the bike trailer from school. And I am also guilty of taking her to Girl Scouts this afternoon. Oh, and I consented to letting her have a sucker. Plus, I spent my usual 2 hours helping in her classroom today- just like every Tuesday.

But I wonder where she even picked up that "I'm gonna run away" phrase. Very original. I can remember using that one on my own mom and she usually countered with "Let me know when you are going to pack your bags and I will help you."

I just don't know how to respond to my own daughter. It's a tricky little manipulative corner these sneaky kids back us into.

What I think she is really saying is:

I'm sick of the pile of laundry in the loft.

Because whenever I look at that pile, the first thought on my mind is "I'm gonna run away."

I used to have a great system for laundry. I did one load every day- two, if necessary- and I was able to keep up on the laundry. This was successful for just over a year. And then I got pregnant- and way sick. And the system was thrown off. And I have not been able to get on top of it again in the past year. And it's driving me crazy.

But that is neither here nor there, for what will I do with a runaway daughter? I don't know.

But I do know this: when it comes down to it and she is ready to run, we will have a difficult time packing her little wheelie suitcase- because there are no clean clothes in her drawers- they are all in a pile in the loft. So, here is my theory: she will get so frustrated sorting through the clothes to pack her little bag that she will give up on the running away. Because, hey, it's easier to put up with the meanest of mean moms than to have to sort out the Mt. Everest of laundry hanging out in the loft.

Problem solved.

OK, OK, I confess- I am purposely failing at laundry in an attempt to retain my children.

And now I am off to bed so that I may awake at 5:45 a.(crazy)m. so that I might continue my effort to shape myself up for this pioneer trek. And then I will walk. Because, really, all I want in life is to be an awesome walker! (and to figure out why blogger does some of the annoying things that it does whenever i add a pic or center a phrase. aaarrrgghhhh!!!! yes, and that)

Clothes Encounters

a while ago i wrote a post about the contents in my dryer that were not supposed to be there (to tell you the truth, i have been so tempted to start a "what i found in the dryer today" column- because i find things daily- and when i say daily, i mean everyday). one of my commenters picked up on the fact that my washing machine looks like a space ship. she is smart as a whip, that one. i don't know how she caught on, but it was like she knew i was crying out for help. and so now i feel that it is time you know that my family and i were the victims of an attempted alien abduction.

i'll just give you a moment to process this.









you know how you go throughout your day- EVERY day- wondering how you would react in the event of an attempted alien abduction? i am here to tell you that how you actually react is nothing like how you imagined you would react. trust me!

we are lucky because we have wormboy at our house. his jedi/darth vader, batman, spider/superman, pilgrim, pirate, wormlike powers are truly what saved us in this situation. i can't go into details for a couple of reasons: 1) because those aliens performed a partial-mind wipe and 2) they told us they would harm all our blog/twitter followers if we revealed certain things. and i totally cannot have that happen. but i will say that i have a brilliant husband who was able to re-work some of what wormboy beat out of those aliens and craft it into a fine washing machine that really does a nice job with our clothes. and i'm especially glad they had a ton of vinyl lettering in a really small font so we could label the different cycles the husband programmed. brilliant!

i'm hoping we are done with the aliens, but you never know. sometimes they come back. or so i have heard. but then, maybe they already have and they performed a total mind-wipe this time. i kinda hope they come back- i could use a freezer.

Two Tags and a Little Miscellany

I have two tags- one from Stefany and one from Beckie- to take care of:

first, the 4th picture in my 4th folder is this beauty:

This is oldest daughter about 2 1/2 years ago. Painting a masterpiece. One I am sure she ripped out of the book as soon as she was done and hung it on the refrigerator and then after it had its time on the fridge I am sure I threw it away. Because, as much as I'd like to keep it, I just don't have room for ALL of the childrens' art work. And I am sure she found it in the garbage can later and asked me why I threw it away and then she re-hung it. And then it was there for a while longer until I removed it. And having learned my lesson and being a wiser mother, I dug down deep in the trash and covered all signs of its existence so that it would not be rediscovered. And now it is in a landfill somewhere.

This is the general routine at our house.

second, here is the bookworm tag which involves opening the nearest book to page 56 and writing out the fifth sentence on that page, and also the next two to five sentences...The CLOSEST BOOK, NOT YOUR FAVORITE, OR MOST INTELLECTUAL!!

Here goes: the nearest book to me is Catherine, Called Birdy.

"Finally I conceived a small amusement to pass the time. I took a string from the lute that once was mine but now belongs to the cook, cut it into pieces as the traveling musician had showed me, and sprinkled them on a dish of creamed herring as it passed by. The heat of the dish made the piece of string writhe and wiggle."

I tag Heidi, Suzi, Marni, Natalie, and Calli. (that is, if any of you are reading this blog. oh, and you can choose which tag you would like to participate in. or not. whatever. it's totally up to you.)

And now, for your viewing pleasure. The continuing saga of

What's in Your Dryer?

Remember how I said I was gonna start checking pockets?

Well, I haven't really started that yet.

So I guess the joke's on me... again.

This is what came out of the wash today:

Shall we zoom in

and examine the items a bit closer?

I count 13 small hair clippies and two fragments of cardboard, one large and one small. And look how shiny those clippies came out. Wow. Ultra Buena!

What will the children come up with next?

Can't wait to find out. And it should be soon. Because I get to do more laundry tomorrow!

What's In Your Dryer?

I wore a dress the other day. On a week day. That's how I knew. It was time to do some laundry. (actually, I tend to wear dresses a lot in the summer around here- and yes it is still summer around here- but I thought it was a pretty good way to start, so I went with it.)

I threw a load of the girls' clothes into the washing machine, waited the customary 41 minutes for the cycle to run its course, and at the chiming of the bell, I promptly (because I have nothing to do but stand by the laundry room door and wait for a load of laundry to cycle through) entered the laundry room to put those damp clothes into the dryer- with a smile on my face, my hair swept into a glorious up-do and in heels (to go with my dress).

While I was so doing I heard the periodic clanking of something tumbling from the clothes as I moved them from one machine to the other. I immediately stopped the process to determine what treasure I might find this day. And there it was- a sparkly white rock, rustled from some deep pocket where it had been peacefully resting until it met with my cobalt blue master of a washing machine and was shaken loose. I placed it on top of the appliance and continued transferring the remaining clothes. Again, I heard the familiar clank of a sparkly white stone.

This scenario would be played out 5 additional times before I was able to complete the removal of the wet clothes and help them find their place in my dryer.

I turned on the power to the dryer, selected the appropriate cycle for tiny colored clothing, and pressed the start button. As if on cue, the familiar clank, clank, clanking of foreign objects could be heard. How many more can there be? I paused the dryer and opened the door and began the rummaging process to extract the offending clankers. I found 3 more rocks, closed the door, and resumed the tumbling of the clothes by pushing the start button again. I listened. Nothing but the thump of damp clothes as they tumbled against the drum. So I turned to leave. No sooner had I done that then a tiny timid clank reached my ears.

I pushed pause once again, kicked off my heels, opened the door, and searched for that little pebble. Finally, I found it in all its sparkling white glory, pushed the door closed and activated the cycle once again- confident(ish) that all pebbles were accounted for. They weren't. Once again I could hear a rock free-falling in my dryer as it spun round and round.

I left the room. Not willing to deal with that rock because do you know how painstaking a process it is to find a small rock in a pile of damp clothes? You have to totally commit. "Let it have its thrill ride," said I. I was not about to mess with it any longer and satisfied that I would let it believe it had really pulled one over on me. Even as I walked away, though, I had visions of an exploding dryer, but I just couldn't spend any more time searching fruitlessly for the item. I will find it when I go to fold the clothes and it will receive its punishment at that time.

In all I rescued 10 rocks of various sizes and shapes from my one load of laundry- and who knows how many stowaways escaped detection. (I really need to start checking pockets since my daughters are really into collecting- anything.)

Since this laundry experience I have been troubled and I am struggling with coming to terms with a certain discovery. And, how do I teach my children to shun this concept? Out of all the rocks in our yard- pink, grey, black, brown, spotted and striped- my girls chose ONLY white ones. I think they are racist.




*and guess what? there is a blog called "rocks in my dryer"- i think it's in honor of my experience. check it out sometime... but don't go there expecting it to tell you how to deal with actual rocks in your dryer- i think it's metaphorical :)