The Pick-Up Crisis

I'm fairly certain H's whole goal in life is to keep me on my toes.

Seriously.

Every time I start to believe that this whole peaceful and non-punitive parenting thing is all a hoax and isn't working; that it's time for me to change my name and move cross country so I can't be found; she throws me for a loop.

I think I've mentioned it before, but H has been testing boundaries religiously as of late. Especially with listening.

Omg.

You'd think I was a slave-driver and demanded a ton from this girl.

Though it's quite the opposite.

I started to think maybe I requested too little. To a fault.

And that was why suddenly things she'd always done without questioning, like helping to pick up, had suddenly become battles of epic proportions or moments where I just walked away, knowing I wasn't going to win anyway.

I mean, I can't force her to pick up her toys. And she knows that I can't. And that is power.

And that kind of power when you're not quite four is thrilling and liberating. And a headache for momma.

The past few weeks of life in this house have been officially come to be known as "The Pick-Up Crisis."

I won't lie. I totally engaged the battle a few times. There were times I threw up my hands and said, "Fine! If you won't pick it up, I will. And what I pick up is going in the closet."

Very mature of me. I know.

Mostly, I was pretty sure I was going to lose my mind over the mess of dress-up clothes and art supplies and too many blocks.

And then we talked. We talked and talked and talked and talked. And then we talked some more.

H was pretty sure she was done talking, but we talked a little bit more.

And we ate cupcakes. Because cupcakes make everything better.

And talked some more.

Mostly, she doesn't love picking up still. But she does most of the time.

I don't expect an immaculate house by any means. But an extreme mess just stresses me out.

Both kids know the rule is when you take one thing out, you put it back before something else comes out.

And they're both pretty good about it until about 4:30pm. Then the "witching hour" which lasts until bedtime starts up and it all goes out the window. So then either I pick everything up after they're asleep or in the morning.

But seriously, I was asking H something like, "Pick up those three dress-up outfits please, while B picks up that puzzle" and she was having none of that shit. And I was frazzled.

Now she's all, "Okay, Mommy!"

I don't know if it was just a phase. Or all the talking. Or what.

But I'm glad it's (mostly) over.

Right in time, I'm sure, for a new awesome phase.

Though hopefully there is nice break until then. ;-)