Bolstered by my success at decluttering the toy box yesterday, I woke bright and early this morning ready to take on a new challenge. Okay, I exaggerate ever so slightly ~ I wasn’t feeling that bright, but it was very early.
Pulling on my dressing-gown and heading for the kettle, I was suddenly aware of how quiet it was.
“Where are the boys, honey?” I asked puzzled.
“Oh, they are both sitting in Foghorn’s bed playing quietly,” he shrugged.
Something about this peaceful image of my two boys didn’t quite ring true for me.
“They are too quiet! They are up to something!”
Sure enough, I entered their room to find them snuggled up in bed together with very furtive looks on their faces. Pulling back the doona I soon discovered why. They had raided the pantry, found my secret stash of Cadbury’s mini crème eggs and were in the process of devouring the lot.
By seven o’clock with a belly full of goo and sugar, both boys were bouncing off the walls. I quietly thanked my lucky stars that they were off to child care for the day, so I’d have a chance to destress study.
Anyway (I’ve digressed), after getting the usual jobs done around the place, instead of assuming my preferred position (with a cuppa at the computer) I decided to sort and organise the kids clothes.
This was a little more difficult than yesterday’s toy cull. Making little piles of Bubble’s, Foghorn’s and the Woo’s clothing to be given away was a sharp reminder of how quick my babies are growing. Each little piece of clothing seemed to have memories attached to it. But, to be successful in my mission and clear some much needed room, I knew I had to be ruthless. So I made a little compromise with myself and kept just one small outfit/garment for each child to be placed into their memory box, along with their newborn hospital bracelets, the clamp with their shrivelled up umbilical cord attached, in a urine specimen jar (yes, I kept all three, which I am aware may be viewed as slightly odd by some) and other little (less gross) trinkets.
I filled bags and bags. It felt good to let go of the past a little, in order to look forward to the future more comfortably.
Not content with this though, I decided to tackle my pet hate also.
About two months ago I became so infuriated with the missing sock phenomenon that I decided to chuck all of the odd ones into a bag. My theory was that if I kept this up for long enough, eventually all the socks would be reunited with their intended partners.
Sitting on the floor beneath a mountain of socks I began the laborious task of match-making.
I once heard a theory that the ring around Jupiter is made up of all the odd socks that mysteriously disappear, and I’ll be honest, I am starting to wonder if it might be true.
Can you believe that out of 123 socks, I was only able to make 21 pairs? Where on earth have all the rest disappeared to?
Anyway, rather than get annoyed by them any longer I have decided to take a very wise leaf out of a friends book and go sock shopping. I am not going to buy the cute and colourful socks, with the children’s favourite characters on. I am going to buy plain white socks for Bubble, and plain black socks for the boys and put an end to the headache of sock matching once and for all!
Does anyone else have a sock monster in their home?