Look at my desk. It's empty. The huge stack of paperwork related to my To Do list? Gone. It's in the mail, filed away, or tossed because it's no longer needed. I can't believe it. It's done. Okay, okay, there is one itty bitty thing left - the actual packing - but even that is now possible. My room, however, is a disaster. 5 big bags, pushed here and there, labeled Wedding, Yosemite, Africa - Safari, Africa - Capetown, Common To All Parts of the Trip fill the room. I can't get to my blinds to open them so the room is pretty dark unless the lights are on. Most of the bags are at least half full. I'm waiting to do a last load of laundry - but it is definitely doable. I WILL be able to leave Saturday morning. Of course, with the mounting excitement about all the wonderful things happening in my near future, I am also treasuring each minute with Wesley, my kitty cat and the joys of my life here with Stephanie, Dan, Mary, Colin, Lynne, John and my neighbors including all the kids and chickens across the street.
Yesterday Wesley and I cleaned the refrigerator - had to toss all the stuff that won't survive til August. I felt a bit like Tom Sawyer as I described the joys of refrigerator cleaning to the wee one on our way home from preschool. By the time we pulled into my driveway he could hardly wait to get started. Is this manipulation of the highest order or wisdom? Not sure but we DID have fun. I put two paper grocery bags on the floor in front of the refrigerator and he played Bagger-At-The-Grocery-Store and packed into them all the things that could survive my time away. I handled the icky stuff - into the garbage or recycling. Once all the food was gone, he watched, fascinated, as I took out the shelves and drawers. What he liked most was leaning into the empty refrigerator to wash down the inside walls. We took turns - he'd make a swipe, I'd follow up with support. In the process we searched down every bit of whatever-shouldn't-be-there on the walls and wiped it away. He liked using clean towels to sop up all the excess rinse water - both in the refrigerator and on the floor. His enthusiastic scrubbing meant that there was, indeed, a small lake beneath our feet.
Then we had the delight of washing the shelves and drawers. Water play is always fun and I was able to both convince him not to add all the rubber duckies from the bathroom to the sink and to let me handle the glass parts of the shelves (although I did let him pour a big mug full of water down each side to rinse them). He happily helped me wash the plastic parts. When it was all reinstalled we stood and looked, with great satisfaction, at what we had done. Then we put the food back. He decided to turn the butter compartment into his own special place to store the yogurts he likes. He carefully pointed the pictures on the cartons toward him so that he can easily pick out his favorite of the moment. This is the kind of thing that would have driven me a bit mad when I was a mother. We stored butter in the butter compartment, it's where it was best placed. I needed to find things quickly. What would have happened if both children decided they each wanted a space in the refrigerator? Or worse, the same space? Today, almost 40 years later, who cares? My life is small, my obligations few, and the refrigerator is much larger than I need. I can deal with placing butter elsewhere. Let him have his special space.
There it is - note the butter, on its own, on the shelf beneath.
Today we tackled his room upstairs. The best part of the room for him, I think, is the under-the-eaves attic storage space. He likes to play there - especially if flashlights are involved. I have to lean down to get in and move around, not him. I let him decide where we should store the winter things like the space heaters (there was actually very little free space but he got to make the decisions). Then we cleaned his room. He would spray the "magic" - the cleaning product - on the dishcloth and I would rub - until he wanted to rub and then we would exchange roles. He likes the concept of vacuuming but not the actual noise so he jumped on his bed while I vacuumed sections of the floor or rug. We wiped down everything. While we cleaned the framed photographs we discussed the pictures of his Mommy when she was little. We laughed about the funny one of her showing the contents of her 4-year old mouth full of chocolate pudding. I showed him photos of my parents, my husband (his Grampa Gary who was his Mommy's Daddy and who we miss), etc. So many generations. One wonders what his little mind makes of it all.
So what plans do I have for child labor tomorrow and Thursday? Why the living room and basement, of course. He loves the basement so it should be fun. It is just creepy enough to make it kind of interesting but not scary. . . and so different from upstairs. Quite satisfying.
So I move forward to a Saturday departure. Thank goodness child welfare folks aren't out watching what I am doing. Whoops, I forgot about Jennifer - if you are reading this, Jenn, it's all a lie.
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