My kids have more toys than Santa’s workshop. And they have clothes hiding in dresser drawers that will never fit them again. Time for Spring cleaning a few months early! I’m looking forward to a big pile of toys to donate and clothes to pass along. Not to mention the extra space I’ll have to organize all of their art supplies, puzzles, and other toys with little itty bitty pieces that I keep stepping on. Now I just need to convince my children to share my enthusiasm.

I truly did not anticipate the magnitude of this project. I spent almost 2 hours just on my son’s room! Big C wasn’t too fond of the overhaul, but he loved the fact that ultimately Mommy cleaned his room. Luckily, Little C’s room recently had a makeover when we traded in her crib for a bed, so it wasn’t as cluttered as her brother’s. I was able to get rid of a drawer full of her old clothes and refill it with toys.

By the time we were finished, the mountain of donations wasn’t exactly as high as I had envisioned. In fact, most of the toys and books that Big C actually agreed to relinquish ended up finding their way to Little C’s room. But it’s done. I even shifted enough stuff around that I was able to remove a nightstand that was shoved in Big C’s closet to house more forgotten junk. That made space for his bean bag chair in his new “secret room,” where he can close the curtains and plot his latest ploy to drive me crazy.

Today’s adventure made me wonder how in the world my children have managed to accumulate such a vast amount of toys. Where did they all come from?! And when did toys manufactured for 5-year-olds surpass my 30-something-year old cognitive abilities? Despite my best efforts, I have NEVER been able to transform Bulkhead into a tank or Optimus Prime into a truck.  And speaking of Transformers, I swear the inventor didn’t have children. The man spent way too much time inventing and not enough time cleaning up the millions of detachable pieces that may look cool but too often get entangled in dust bunnies under the bed and stab the bottom of frustrated moms’ feet.

On a positive note, during the cleansing process, I found that missing yellow binky. I also found a pink one that went AWOL months ago. (It was part of the forgotten junk that was hiding in the nightstand.)  I think all binkies have officially been recovered.

This is “Long Tag,” Big C’s most prized possession.  Long Tag’s story began when Big C was a baby.  He developed an attachment to one of his blue blankets, so attached that we ordered an identical one as a backup.  He must have been about 2 when he realized that the blankets were not identical.  You see, he liked to soothe himself to sleep by rubbing the blanket’s tag.  And the backup blanket had a longer tag than the original.  Soon, Big C was rejecting the original “Short Tag” and begging for “Long Tag.”  Now, years later, Long Tag has seen better days.  It has traveled to 4 different countries, it’s been peed on, it’s been sewn, and it has more holes than swiss cheese.  But Big C still can’t live without it.  (And Short Tag sits in a dresser drawer, patiently waiting to be used as a backup.)

By the way, I tried teaching Little C her brother’s method of tag rubbing since she owns the pink equivalent of Long Tag.  But she is still missing her binkies.  Last night was a bit bumpy, ending in a 5:30 AM wake up call for me, but naptime today was rough.  Tomorrow is another day.

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