Tales from the Steppes

2006-06-09

1:34 p.m.
-

I have my car keys. I am at work. All is right with the world. Except for the mongols and their messes.

I finally found my car keys in a basket on a bookshelf in the living room. Ok. Whatever. The baskets are actually there because there is always miscellaneous little shit laying around and I wanted a place to put it. Other than the trashcan. It is where Gameboy cartridges, marbles, plastic army men, hairclips and a whole host of miscellany end up.

But not my car keys.

I am not one for writing out a set of rules to be followed. I have always tried to enforce a few but trusted to their broad interpretation. Sort of like the Constitution. My set includes things like:

Pick up after yourself - the [insert item] fairy does not live here.
Food and drink stay at the dining room table unless you receive a parental dispensation.
If you make a mess, you need to either clean it up or ask for help.
No yelling in the house.
Do not touch your siblings.
Leave my stuff alone.

I always thought that pretty much covers most situations. For example, I should not have to make house rules like:

If you drink the last juice pouch, put the box in the recycling box.
If you miss while using the toilet, it is your job to clean it up NOW. Because if I sit on a sticky toilet seat, someone is in big trouble.

Not only do I feel that most of this is common sense, but there is a practical dimension as well. The mongols are horrific rules lawyers, with the MM leading the pack. Now, I have met very few people that can out argue me and certainly no children fit into that category, so if we get into a discussion about the logic and fairness of my rules, I will win. Without even having to resort to the parent trump of "Because I said so." Which is not to say that I don't use it sometimes for convenience - I am not always in the mood for an argument and sometimes just want them to get on with it, whatever it is.

We have actually encouraged some of this by overexplaining our decisions. I like the fact that the mongols use their brains. But right now I am not so sure I like what they are using their brains for. So perhaps, I will have to elaborate on the rules by giving examples of applications of each individual one. But it must be clear that the list is not exhaustive and can include many other things. Otherwise, we will be arguing about what constitutes a mess, does toe jam count as a bodily fluid and/or excretion, and if one child gets the peanut butter out and another child gets some while the peanut butter is still out, who's job is it to put up the peanut butter? The child who got it out or the one who used it last?

This weekend looks to be an exhausting steeplechase. Tomorrow morning is swim team time trials, followed by a soccer game for MM, a luau for EM, a ballet performance for the EM, and family fun day and dedication ceremony at the YM and MM's school. Sunday is yet another soccer game for the MM and hopefully not a whole lot else. The EM wanted to have an end of the year party but I am just don't think I can do that this year. This next week is full of activities needing parental attendance, many of them during the day. 'Cause hey, who needs to work?

Arrrrrrgh. I am still at home. Last night, the MM "borrowed" my car keys and went out to get his shoes from the car. And my car keys never made it back to my purse or desk. Both the YM and MM independently reported seeing them on the futon, but they are not there or anywhere in the vicinity. I have spent my entire morning cleaning things up in an effort to find them. I have found lots of things - candy wrappers, books, dvds, cds, bags of chips, dust bunnies, string cheese wrappers, unidentifiable sticky messes, random pieces of paper. But no keys.

I figured this out last night when the thunderstorm started and my windows were partially rolled down. Went to get my keys to take care of it but no luck. And no, the car is not unlocked with the key sitting inside it. And he could not lock them into the car because there is only one way to do that and I think it was the EM that very cleverly figured that out a year or so ago. You have to open the back up, lock the doors to the car, throw the key in and then close the back.

I had a friend over last night to hang out for a bit and her son actually sat on the futon for a bit, but did not see the key. Very puzzling. I have even looked in strange places, like the refrigerator, knowing that the MM might have gotten distracted and put them down. Sigh.

I have no idea where the SU's copy of the key is - I looked on the top of his dresser and it was not there. I did not want to rifle through it as that would be rude. And since the SU is in France, I cannot call him to ask. Fortunately I drove him to the airport so I can drive his car.

But transportation is not really the point. It is more that my keys are missing. And that will bother me until they are found.

Ok, the garbage I have been finding has not brightened my mood any. If the mongols think I am normally a bit of a bitch, they have not seen anything yet. I think this afternoon will be a real "Wrath of Mom" experience for them. With the result being a lot of cleaning on their part. Were they raised in a barn? I think not! Any child who thinks that sitting on the futon, eating junk food and then tossing the wrapper over the back is ok, is about to be disabused of this notion. Any child who thinks it is someone else's job to pick up after them, is going to learn otherwise. I am pefectly willing to cancel many of this weekend's activities so they can find the time to pick up after themselves.