Dear Friends and Family,
It's Tuesday, and all three of us are up. P is lying on the floor with her blanket and looking at books. Scratch that, she's at the table vaunting her color knowledge along with the 130 words she's mastered.
She's begun recognizing some letters and some numbers and will recite either after you. She can get to five consistently on her own, then skips six and seven, jumping to eight, nine and ten.
And, now, we've got a full fledged tantrum going over the right to flash a flashlight in her eyes. Oh, the tears. Whoever said you don't mind your own child's cries was wrong. I can't say I'm a big fan of P's crying or whining. It still grates on my sensibilities.
Ah. Peace.
I've been working on another de-cluttering project. We have a table in our living room. My preference would be to get rid of the table all together. It's a horizontal surface begging to be filled. If you give Mr. mouse a horizontal surface, he will fill it, much to my chagrin.
Well, this table was piled at least a foot high with stuff. And, now, there's still a couple of piles of stuff to work through, but it's gotten to the point where it's a single layer of stuff. Each item removed, at this point, makes a noticeable improvement to clutter control progress.
My thought is, if I can somehow keep the table clear long enough, Mr. mouse will either start helping to keep it clear or, maybe, agree to take the table out of our room.
De-cluttering feels like a constant battle of wills. You win some battles and then you turn around and realize the enemy is back. It's a constant game of whack a mole.
Cheers!
mouse
It's Tuesday, and all three of us are up. P is lying on the floor with her blanket and looking at books. Scratch that, she's at the table vaunting her color knowledge along with the 130 words she's mastered.
She's begun recognizing some letters and some numbers and will recite either after you. She can get to five consistently on her own, then skips six and seven, jumping to eight, nine and ten.
And, now, we've got a full fledged tantrum going over the right to flash a flashlight in her eyes. Oh, the tears. Whoever said you don't mind your own child's cries was wrong. I can't say I'm a big fan of P's crying or whining. It still grates on my sensibilities.
Ah. Peace.
I've been working on another de-cluttering project. We have a table in our living room. My preference would be to get rid of the table all together. It's a horizontal surface begging to be filled. If you give Mr. mouse a horizontal surface, he will fill it, much to my chagrin.
Well, this table was piled at least a foot high with stuff. And, now, there's still a couple of piles of stuff to work through, but it's gotten to the point where it's a single layer of stuff. Each item removed, at this point, makes a noticeable improvement to clutter control progress.
- cup of pens and pencils
- box of gift cards
- post it notes
- crayons
- flash cards that I want to throw away
- old phones and cameras for P
- one pile of papers that still need to be worked through
- a pile of coloring books and stickers for P
- photos to be scanned
- a computer mouse
- a noise maker
- 6 baseball caps
- 3 sandwich bags with stuff from P
- some hair ties
- luggage tags
- pins
My thought is, if I can somehow keep the table clear long enough, Mr. mouse will either start helping to keep it clear or, maybe, agree to take the table out of our room.
De-cluttering feels like a constant battle of wills. You win some battles and then you turn around and realize the enemy is back. It's a constant game of whack a mole.
Cheers!
mouse
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