Wednesday, 2 December 2009

It's quiet. Too quiet.

The peace and unshattered tranquility around here is unnerving. First Born has been in London since Monday on a school trip and won't be back until Friday. So we only have Second Born around and he is the quieter of the two anyway (he prefers the stealthy, deadly-accurate one liner over First Born's scattergun talk-the-entire-time-your-eyes-are-open approach.) But oh! the lack of bickering, shouting, whining, complaining, pushing, shoving, door-kicking and throwing of watches across the room in a fit of temper - it's quite wonderful.

Second Born, being the perceptive type, has spotted his opening and is doing his award winning performance of "Perfect Child" (subtitle: Keep me and put the other one out with the bins. You know you want to.) I know it won't last but the hugs and the jokes and the VOLUNTEERING of information about what he did at school and the unpacking of his lunch box without being yelled at asked is very refreshing. I will of course be running the usual sweepstake in which you can all take guesses at how long it will take after First Born returns before the bickering breaks out. (Long term readers will recall the sterling effort put in by both boys when SB came back from school camp and FB had started on him before he even got off the bus.)

In other news......not much, really. I had Monday off for St Andrew's day and chose to celebrate by going to Makro and buying toilet roll. I followed that up with an expedition in to clean the boys' bathroom. The less said about that the better I think. All I will say is that I don't know what it was they were growing by the sink, but it ain't there any more.

After surviving that traumatic afternoon, I plan to institute a new regime whereby the boys each have a task to do each weekend, alternating between cleaning their bathroom and tidying their bedroom. I will announce this on Friday evening so keep your ears open - some of you may be able to hear the howls of protest from where you are.


  1. What happens on St. Andrew's day? Are there presents? A feast? Dancing? Drinking? Costumes? Church -- do you have to go to church? What did St. Andrew do that warrants giving him an entire day? I could Google this, of course, but I'd rather hear it from you. Thank you

  2. Canada needs a patron saint and don't tell me it's George.
    Males miss toilets, in my experience. Males do not clean up toilets, also in my experience. Anything else, but toilets? No.
    Sometimes the small differences in expression between your English and our English is a lot of fun. In my part of Ontario, rolls are small pieces of bread and we use toilet paper. You might yell at your spouse for not putting up a new roll, but the thing itself -- TP. When my daughter was doing grad work in England she was editor of something called 'The Loo Roll', a newsletter that got posted in all the college lavatories. (aka Washrooms, in Canada. Most Canadians could not translate the motto on our coat of arms if threatened with death.

  3. Again in my experience, they will fight until they leave home and then never again.

  4. Oh, may I wish you Good Luck with the tidying routine, and tell me if you succeed EXACTLY HOW YOU DID IT.

    I try the Flylady children's challenges. I try shouting. I try encouragement. I try Doing It Together To Cheery Music, which is basically me flinging clothes into drawers while the kids dance around to The Proclaimers.

    I tell everyone who is willing to listen that this is a fun way of teaching them that tidying up doesn't have to be boring, and that eventually they will get the idea being modelled to them and join in.

    Just for the record, I have been a parent for nine years, and this day shows no sign of coming.

  5. Na. It won't work. Unless you have particularly diligent children. Just do it yourself. You'll get your revenge once they have messy children themselves.

    Or that's my opinion. Though my friend Jan did manage to organise her children into chores. But then she's Superwoman.

  6. I say to you please, please, please, make your sons learn to clean, to cook, to take care of themselves!
    My Hubby is totally helpless due to his mother waiting on him hand and foot. He does not know how to clean a room, or cook a meal or anything. I blame his mother, who simply told me that it was her job to wait on her husband and only son! Blech!

  7. "volunteering information about what he did at school" ...

    I thought it was genetically impossible for small boys to do this. I am IMPRESSED!