8 bags later, I think we have done pretty well…
I have decided my place needs a pick-me-up. My bed was never made because it was up against the wall, so I turned it around, even though it takes up more of the room. Then, Nick helped me with Keely’s room (God bless his soul) yesterday. She has had a bunk bed for a long time because I didn’t know how else to fit her crap in her room (and trust me, I throw away plenty, but it still accumulates from somewhere). Well, it meant that we didn’t do any tucking in at night, and in the morning I am not able to rouse her physically (like maybe throw some ice water on her?! jk), but instead I start out normal, but by the 15th time, I am yelling at her to get her butt out of bed, cuz if she’s late to school again…. fill in the blank with some expletive or threatened punishment. You get the drill. Well, we managed to not only drop her bed to the ground and rearrange everything, but we also managed to clear out 5 bags and a beanbag for goodwill, and 2 bags of trash. Tonight, Keely and I went through her INSANE amount of clothes and cleared out one bag of clothes for goodwill.
It was painfully slow, and I was notably impatient, because we were getting all of the clothes done, damnitall! At the end, I congratulated Keely on getting rid of so much without a fuss, and she climbed in her “new” bed, loving the newness of it. I actually kissed her goodnight, and all was well…….until…
- Keely: Mom, where are the posters I had on my bed?
- Me: They’re gone.
- Keely: What do you mean?
- Me: They are in the trash, gone.
- Keely: …………… all kinds of statements like “I don’t care what you do to me, I am going to get Justin [poster of] out of the trash!”” That’s all that matters to me! “”You don’t care about my feelings!”…. and other progressively nasty comments. I just lied down on my back on the floor trying to ease my sciatica which….amazingly enough….just cropped up with all the commotion!
So, it’s 9:25, and I haven’t done any work yet, but I made Keely a nice dinner, helped her (albeit impatiently) with going through her clothes and hanging what we were keeping, bagging what we weren’t, did the dishes, and calmly listened to her ranting… and wishing she could see that I am doing all of this for her (and my) mental sanity. I am trying to clear the clutter for both of us to help calm the mind. I am trying to put Keely in a position which fosters more physical affection and less conflict. And here we are fighting over a poster of Justin, pulled out of a cheap teen magazine. C’est la vie.