Category Archives: Womanhood

Update

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Having a Husband Home

Ryan’s been in town for three weeks! It’s been so nice to have him home at night. I go to finish getting dinner ready and there is laughter coming from the playroom instead of wails and whines. And then he gets Paul ready for bed while I clean up the kitchen or vice versa. I’m so jealous of all of you who have your husband home most nights! I’m so spoiled this month.

Ryan worked in St. Charles (30-40 minutes away) for a week. The downside was that I had to drive him if I wanted the car. We are still a one-car family, and it’s obvious that we’d need a second car if he were in town more often. Paul did not like sitting in the car for 90 minutes in the morning and again in the evening! Ryan worked in St. Charles for one week, he worked downtown a few days, and the rest of the time he’s been working from home. It’s very nice. Of course, knowing that the company has clients to send him to would be very nice too. It’s a good time to stay very busy in your place of employment.

Yesterday he had to fly out to Albuquerque in the early hours of the day, but he’s flying back tonight, red eye. He may return to NYC next week; I’m not sure. I wouldn’t mind having him around longer, despite the caveat I wrote above.

Anniversary

We had a really nice weekend to celebrate our third anniversary. Ryan finished up his work in St. Charles and we drove down to Naperville. Mom and Dad had agreed to watch Paul. It was to be the first night I was ever apart from Paul. And it was about time!

We went to dinner at Olive Garden (one of my favorite restaurants because it’s very tasty, even while being inexpensive). Then we went to to the temple for a session. After we got out (rather late), we drove to Chicago and stayed at the Palmer House. (Ryan has hotel points, and we just don’t order any room service so it was free.) The next morning we walked to Millennium Park and took some pictures as we walked around. Then we got a nice lunch and drove to Naperville in time to visit with my brother Carl and his friend.

So how did I do without Paul? I woke up once in the night thinking “oh no! He fell out of his crib!” (I don’t know why. He’s never even tried to climb out of his crib.) And then I had a dream that he was crying for me because he couldn’t get his socks on by himself. (Well, it’s true: he can’t get his socks on without my help! He tries every day.)

So how did Paul do? Mom says he didn’t cry all weekend, and he slept in until 8 a.m. (Why doesn’t he sleep in for me?!) When I heard him waking up from his nap on Saturday afternoon, I was eager to see him. He rolled over, saw me, and started to cry. It was kind of funny if you think about it.

Then we got ready and went to cousin Daniel’s baptism. We were so excited that we could be there. Paul wasn’t very reverent, unfortunately. We then had a barbecue at Daniel’s house. I didn’t get any pictures of the birthday boy on his big day. Boo.

Yard

After my last post, I did buy four small bushes (total: $70)  and Miracle Gro, a hose, and Weed Killer (total: $70). I tore out the dead bushed and planted the newborn bushes in the front planter.

Ryan’s comment: “They look like a couple of weeds.”

In the past month, they’ve grown and they look a little better. I took a picture of the planter “before” (with the dead bushes), but I didn’t take a picture of the “after” until this week. It still looks pretty meager. Maybe when my bushes have grown more, I’ll show you. I’ve also planted a few perennials and bulbs my friends gave me, but of course those won’t be much until next year.

That is the extent of yard work I can afford this year. We have a lot of other things to do, but we do not feel confident doing them ourselves and/or would really need to hire a professional. Some of those things include:

  • prune the huge tree that is half dead (please don’t tell me we can do this ourselves)
  • prune all the trees that are not dead at all (I’m hoping my better half might figure this out)
  • prune the really huge overgrown bush by the split-rail fence (I did prune the other bushes, but this one is so out of control, I seriously cannot even reach it.)
  • diagnose the fungus that the two rear maple trees have and treat the trees (Ryan self-diagnosed it, and it will just go away by next year, we think. But a real diagnosis would help me feel a lot better.)
  • tear out the dead pine tree and the dying ugly pine tree along the back of our deck (Ugly Ugly Ugly!)
  • tear out the dead rose bushes (There are about 4; turns out two or three others have a little bit of growth! maybe the other 4 likewise aren’t completely dead!)

Our planters have random things in them. I still don’t know which are weeds and which are supposed to be there. So the positive side of not having any more money for “gardening” is that I get to just wait and see. I’m glad, too, because one side of the house ended up being a bed of strawberries!

House

We have all the framed pictures we own up on the walls. Now we just need frames so we can put up the rest of our pictures. I can’t wait until every wall is full of our pictures. Then it will feel completely like home. It’s only just home right now.

I’ve spent some time getting the basement organized, including a very empty food storage family storage spot (did you notice the church “changed” the name in all it’s material?). I’ll get a picture (but not tonight) because I’m very proud of the nice open space beside all of our storage boxes. A few weeks ago, you couldn’t get past. Now you can!

Organizing the basement means there is now space to begin a sufficient family storage! Right now, our family storage is mostly non-edibles: toilet paper, paper towels, cleaning supplies. But I’ve figured out a plan for getting the edibles up to three months as well. I’m excited to have a storage of usable food just down the stairs.

I’m also slowly attacking the really moldy refrigerator in the basement so ComEd can pick it up (they’ll even pay me for it). I thought I could clean it and we could use it, but it is too moldy. I never ever want to put my food in it. I’ll never get the mold out of all the cracks. I am going to be sick just thinking about it.

Other things I’d like to have done around the house that unfortunately cost money:

  • clean the vents (The thought of having the floors sanded and all that sand still in the vents makes me shudder. I’m just sweeping up that dust every day. It’s filtering through the house!)
  • powerwash the back of the house (it’s moldy)
  • paint the house
  • paint the trim
  • replace all the windows (essentially all of them have moisture between then, which means they look very dirty, even if we clean inside and out)
  • repaint the deck
  • paint all the walls in the house

And that’s just the beginning…

Housework

I’ve come to a new realization lately: I don’t mind housework. I realized this when Ryan was home. One night, he was talking to me and I started emptying the dishwasher and loading it. I realized I didn’t care that that was what I was doing: it didn’t bother me. It’s not a big deal. Why, then, do I put it off all day?

Since then, I’ve realized the same thing about many chores: sweeping and mopping the floor, making the bed, cleaning the toilets. I don’t love doing the chores (and no, I don’t want to do your chores), but they need to be done and doing them doesn’t bother me. It’s nice to have a clean and tidy home.

It’s a nice thing to realize.

Other Updates Plus Thoughts on Cooking

I update my reading progress at my reading blog here, I post weekly updates about my son’s antics here, and I’ve started tracking my cooking here.

I’m hoping that tracking my cooking will be an incentive to remain creative in my cooking as well as healthful, even when my husband is out of town. When I don’t cook (i.e., when Ryan is gone for five days at a time), then I feel like I can’t cook and I get in a rut where I’m paralyzed in to inaction (“oh, no! It’s dinner time again!” *start panicking and staring in the mostly empty refrigerator*). I need to keep on cooking every day and planning ahead, and it will become more natural.

For some reason, I dread cooking until I begin. I really do like cooking when I’m doing it.

So does that work for an update, Jen? Sorry there are no pictures. I’m too tired to find my camera.

Power

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I spent one nap-time last week spraying all the weeds in our yard. All of them. This week, all the dandelions are withering and dying! YES! I feel so powerful.

The Lawn

Ryan’s in charge of taking over the lawn: I refuse to ever mow. He’s got a one-to-two year plan underway for making it look better. As I walk down the block with Paul, I take note of the lawns that look great. It would be so wonderful to have an OK-looking lawn in a few years. I’m not even asking for great. I’m just hoping the front yard will be relatively dandelion free some unseen date in the future.

I’m becoming accustomed to the idea of “years.” I’m an instant kind of girl: I like to see the fruits of my labors. But I’m realizing that that is not the way with yard work. We do little bits and in the long run it’s going to be better.

But our lawn already isn’t the worst. While our house had been vacant for a least one summer, at least they had a yard service. Two houses down is currently vacant and it must be a foreclosure because the lawn is bad. When I say bad, I mean 6-10 dandelion plants every square foot on the front lawn. Ours has about 1 dandelion or thistle every 2-3 square feet front lawn, about 1 per square foot back lawn, with lots of clover and crab grass too. So ours isn’t too bad. Our other neighbors have not many dandelions but huge patches of crab grass on the front lawn that grow faster than regular grass, thus making a “gopher-like” appearance. So ours isn’t too bad.

Lanscaping

Our empty planting spaces, on the other hand, are starting to look Bad. This will be my territory. Yikes. I’m scared, since I’ve never successfully kept a plant alive. Ever. I’m also not convinced that weeding will be fun. Seeing the dead dandelions did make me feel powerful, though. Yes! I’ve killed something. (Not that that is hard to do, unless we’re talking weeds.)

We put in mulch a few weeks ago and I’ve been waiting to see which of the stick-plants are alive versus dead.

The verdict: It looks like in the front planters, one of the rose bushes is alive; the other three are dead as a doornail. This space is about 10 by 13, so I have lots of perennials to get. We do have two other living bushes, thank goodness.

In the back, we have two living rose bushes compared to four dead ones. Plus we have a huge dead tree stump and another huge dying evergreen. One other tree of some kind is half dead. The ferns (fiddleheads?) are growing in the lawn.

I’m going in to the nursery today, armed with photos. The consultants are willing to look and give advice for free (assuming, of course, I plan on buying from them when I’m ready for plants). I’m also wondering if I’ll be able to dig these plants out myself; that dead evergreen stump is pretty huge.

Here’s the question: What’s the smallest amount of money I can spend to make my landscaping look presentable, year one? I was seriously hoping for $100 but I wonder if that’s reasonable, given the number of dead bushes I’m going to pull out. I’m aiming to tame the front planters this year and worry about the back (minus taking out the dead stuff and the plants growing in the lawn) next year.

On a postive note, I’m hoping that this is a chance to actually be successful at getting things to grow. I just love Spring: it’s even nicer living in a neighborhood. Each day when I drive home, I just love the tree-lined roads that now have white and pink and green blossoms. The world is so beautiful!

Read with Kids Challenge

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As a part of the Read with Kids Challenge, I’ve been tracking the time I read with Paul (who is 19 months old).

I love to read (as one can tell from my reading blog), so I like to read him chapter books (usually children’s). Even though he’s too young to care or follow a plot, I want to read those books, so I might as well get them read while I’m reading to a child. But each morning, I usually read him a chapter from something (10-20 minutes) while he plays with his toys or eats his breakfast. We also read picture books a lot, any time of day.

The Read with Kids Challenge encourages parents (or teachers or librarians) to read with kids from April 1 til June 30, 2009. There are awards and such too. I don’t expect to win anything — I just thought it would be fun to see how much I read with Paul and try to raise that amount of time each day so that reading is a habit for him and for us.

From April 15 (when I started keeping track) until today, we read 390 minutes, or an average of 26 minutes a day. I had made a 75-day goal of 2500 minutes, which is an average of 33 minutes a day. Considering reading in the morning and bedtime stories, that sounded do-able, but then I forgot about the days when I forget or don’t do much reading at all (like weekends!). I realize now that that will be nearly impossible. In the past two weeks, I’ve been really pushing myself to read whenever I could and every day. But I still came up short of what I expected would be “easy.” Maybe averaging 20 minutes a day is plenty practical. My new goal is 1600 minutes by the end of June, including, of course, the 390 we did in the later half of April.

I also wonder which times I should count as reading; maybe I am “cheating.” My son doesn’t actually read, so all my time is actually “reading to a kid.”  Which times would you count as “reading with kids” out of these?

  • I read a chapter book to him while he plays with his toys or eats his breakfast or takes his bath.
  • I read a chapter book to him while he falls asleep in my arms (he was not feeling well).
  • I read him a picture book bedtime story.
  • I read him two pages of a bedtime story, and then he points at the pictures and babbles as he turns the other pages.
  • When I say it’s time for a bedtime story, he runs to the closet and grabs a picture book. Then he sits on the floor, turns the pages, and babbles, pushing me away if I come near. After about 30 seconds, he gets up and exchanges it for a different book. Repeat five to ten times.

I count them all, because each in its own way helps him to love reading. That is, I think, the purpose of this challenge. I’m comforted in the fact that my son loves books. But what do you think? Does reading with kids need to be interactive?

An example of success: I read Paul Robinson Crusoe aloud over the course of two months. Now, whenever he sees that particular book on my bookshelf, he brings it to me, babbling something incomprehensible. I’m hoping he is actually saying something about his good memories of me reading to him (like maybe that day I held him when he was not feeling well, and he fell asleep as I read to him).

Another example: Yesterday morning, after I got him up and dressed, I was going to go into the other room. But Paul found the copy of Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle we’re reading and handed it to me, very excited.

“Do you want me to read some of it to you?” I asked.

He nodded emphatically and then headed back to his toys, turning to look back at me to see that I was starting to read. Aww, how could I not?

Update

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I haven’t updated this for another two weeks. My, time goes fast!

Nothing is happening in my life except these things (decide for yourself if they are exciting).

  • Our house is fully furnished and we almost have all the pictures on the walls. We also have just a few shelves to put up, and I want to add family photos in frames to those shelves. My color printer on the fritz, so I guess I should just pay to have them printed.
  • We have spent every Saturday for the past few weekends working in the yard. It looks bad, but it’s getting a little better. The house had been vacant for a long time, and while they must have had a yard service mowing the lawn, the planters were rather neglected. This weekend we got mulch and in the next few weeks, once Chicago stops frosting and I’m sure there won’t any more snow (when might that be?!), I may get some plants in the ground. Maybe then I’ll show pictures. I don’t like yard work at all at this point, and would love to have the money to hire someone else to make it pretty. I’d rather do an inside project in that time, of which I could choose from many.
  • I got my haircut. It looks bad. I didn’t get it straightened (I decided it was too expensive this month), and with all the humidity and rain we get in Chicago this time of year, it’s just horribly frizzy. Sigh. Maybe in two months I’ll get it straightened. I dislike it almost as much as I disliked my hair before I got it cut. (it had been 15 months since my last cut; it was time.)
  • I’ve gotten a cold every two weeks for the past three months, but thankfully, I don’t think it’s the swine flu.
  • Paul is finally starting to talk. It’s delightful to understand him! He’s also becoming a sporadic napper, meaning there are some days when he’s awake 12 hours and I don’t get a break. That’s not so delightful but we’re managing. Lots of visits to the library (where there is a train table).
  • Ryan is still traveling Monday mornings through Thursday nights. I’m so glad he doesn’t have to leave Sunday night! The few interviews he’s had have been of the “we’d-love-to-hire-you-but-can’t” sort, thanks to this crummy economy. We’re looking at options for the future and the long run looks promising, although it means he’ll be traveling for the foreseeable future. At least he has a great job!
  • I am the primary music leader. They have had substitutes for about three months, so they are delighted to have me. I love my calling.

I don’t update very often, and it’s good to look at this and remember that life is good. We’re so grateful for all the wonderful blessings the Lord has given us.

Our Easter Weekend

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I mentioned the other day that we had a wonderful weekend.

First, on Friday, I volunteered at the library in the morning, sans baby. I love my son, and I love being a stay-at-home Mom. But there is something so nice about leaving home and knowing that his needs are being taken care of and I’m not the one doing it! For just one morning a week, I’m a working woman, useful for my brain. (Or rather, for my alphabetizing; do you need much brain to sing the alphabet song?) Of course, Paul has entered a new stage of clingy-ness and cried when I said good-bye — even though he was going to spend the morning with Daddy.

While Ryan worked Friday afternoon, Paul and I drove down to Grandma and Grandpa’s house. I decorated Easter eggs with Daniel and Jessica and Grandma. Then we all went swimming. Paul had a blast splashing and kicking in the water.

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Paul and I ate dinner with the family and then we came home. Paul feel asleep in the car so Ryan and I had the rest of the evening. We watched a chic flick. (My choice of movie…)

Saturday morning, we decided to go bowling. Frank and Elizabeth were talking about how much fun their family had — even 2-year-old Jessica — and Ryan has been wanting to go bowling for months. So we took off at about 11:30 and went bowling! Paul was a bit scared/cranky at first. Maybe it was too noisy, maybe he was just tired. Eventually he gave up his turns and rested; we ordered food so that distracted him. Ryan and I had fun, although I won’t admit how low our scores were.

Then we went on a drive to pick up the grill we had ordered. We could only get it at a distant Lowe’s, and so we enjoyed the scenic rural drive and Paul had a nice little nap. What a beautiful world we live in! Some day we’ll take pictures and I’ll show you how pretty Illinois really is, corn fields and all.

While Ryan put his new grill together, I cleaned the house, top to bottom. It felt so wonderful. I love my house! Every time I mop the floor, every time I clean the counters and tiddy the messes, I just love my new home. I am so glad I get to stay here for the next 30 years, and that by the end of that time I’ll own it fair and square.

Sigh. There is something so satisfying about a clean home.

Sunday morning we had stake conference. It was wonderful how the speakers (including Elder Oaks and President Monson) testified of Christ in the Easter spirit. In the afternoon, Mom and Dad and Daniel and then Frank, Elizabeth, and Jessica came up. Ryan (and I helped a little) had cut most of the vegetables and made a marinade before church, so after church all we had to do was put the food on the grill. (We had steak and chicken fajitas. I know that is not a traditional Easter dinner, but I’ve been craving fajitas for weeks and yum! It was so good!)

Daniel was the Easter bunny and Paul and Jessica had a fun time searching for the eggs. I was impressed that Paul actually figured it out. He’s getting so old so fast!

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What am I forgetting? I’m sure there was something. At any rate, it was a great, energizing weekend.

How was your Easter?

“I Can” versus “I Can’t”

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I’ve never had incredible self confidence, and I always second guess my abilities. Taking on the role of mother is still incredibly daunting to me, even eighteen months after my son’s birth. But the process of giving birth has so much to do with how I still approach motherhood.

When I first entered the delivery room that Sunday morning, I asked how long I should expect to be in labor. The midwife suggested that normal progress would be 4 hours for every 2 centimeters dilation. Since I was only 4 centimeters at that point, I could therefore expect 12 more hours of labor! I couldn’t stand the thought of such a long time. I’d already been awake most of the night.

Because it seemed there was so much time left, I decided to wait until I seriously couldn’t bear it anymore before asking for the epidural. While I expected I’d eventually take the pain medication, it would be a long time stuck on my back.

Less than two hours later, I asked for it. I couldn’t stand the pain. With each contraction, I already told my husband, “I can’t do this!” He calmly reassured me that I could.

By the time I asked for the epidural, however, it was too late-I was fully dilated. I couldn’t have an epidural at that point. It was nearly time to push.

In some respects, it was exciting to know that my son was so near to being born. It’s very good to have a shorter labor. But I just knew I couldn’t have a baby without numbing all the pain.

“How long?” I asked.

“Within two hours.”

Two more hours! I couldn’t do it. I would die. I firmly decided that if the baby hadn’t been born by 3 p.m, I would succumb to death. But I’d make a valiant effort before I did. I owed that to my husband and this baby that wanted to be born.

The contractions were horrible. But then the most amazing thing happened: in between each I was able to breathe and get ready for the next one. During each contraction I would feel so horrible and I’d tell everyone in the room I couldn’t do it. But then I’d get a moment to catch my breath. And I’d realize that the baby was coming.

Whenever I said “I can’t do it!”, my husband would say “You are doing great” and the midwives would say “You are doing it!”

Well, my son sure took his time. It was more than 2 hours. 3 p.m. came and he still hadn’t been pushed out. But he was nearly there. I decided not to die. And then, with one long push, there was my son. He was born. The midwife put him on my belly.

He was: blue and squirmy and tiny. And yet, he was so huge for having just come from inside of me! It was an incredible thing to finally hold him, and while I cannot describe my first emotional impression of seeing my son, I recall that it was powerful. I was a mother.

That night, my husband left the hospital and I was left with our newborn son. He was fussy and wouldn’t go to sleep. I was exhausted and the adrenaline was wearing off. I’d been up most of the night before with contractions and so I hadn’t had a very restful sleep then either. As a new mom, I think I must have felt I would be betraying my new son if I put him to sleep all alone in his bassinet if he wasn’t yet fully asleep. (I was cured of that pretty quickly.)

As I paced the floor, I thought a silly thought: “Come on! Go to sleep! I can’t stay awake much longer!”

And then it happened: I realized I could never truly say “can’t” again.

I had just been through childbirth without pain medication of any kind. I certainly hadn’t thought I’d be able to do that. And yet, I had done it. Certainly, walking the room with my baby when I was exhausted was nothing compared to that. I could handle whatever comes.

I have forgotten many times. I still doubt myself. And if I’m labor again, I will probably say “I can’t do this!” It’s how life is: we forget. But I have had an experience that solidifies the fact that I can do so much more than I think I can do.

When I was up late last week, exhausted and feverish, holding my feverish toddler, I could handle it.

When my son throws his food on the floor and laughs in my face and I know my husband is out of town for another three days, I can handle it.

And in the coming years, when my son hurts himself and is screaming and bleeding, I can handle it.

I may not feel like I can on those days of utter exhaustion or frustration or worry, but I didn’t feel like I could deliver a baby without medicine either. We don’t know what we are able to do until we are called upon to do it.

I certainly feel that my call of Mother is beyond my own power. But I know that God sustained me during the birth of my son. And with His sustaining power in my life, I no longer can say “I can’t” to any challenge along the way in this journey called Motherhood.

I won’t tell anyone to go through childbirth without drugs. I certainly wanted them! (We live in an age with pain medicine, why not use it?) In general, however, I think we need to stop telling ourselves “I can’t” if we truly don’t know our ability. We shouldn’t let our perception of how bad things will be (or are) cloud our ability to actually do them. We can!

Adapted for the April Write-Away contest at Scribbit, theme Mom. For me, being a Mom means remembering that that I can do anything I need to.

Sorry, Closed

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It’s interesting how we remember general conferences by where we were during each one.

Eighteen months ago I spent the first session of conference (4 to 6 a.m. Sunday morning Australia time) trying to keep my mind off my progressing labor. (Only twelve hours later I held my newborn boy!) I recall Sister Beck’s talk to the mothers with fondness because I was a new mother first the first time that weekend.

Then a year ago I spent the week after conference (since it was delayed a day) listening to all the talks on my computer as I went about my week. I remember listening to Elder Uchtdorf’s and Elder Eyring’s talks over and over again.

Six months ago I went to my parent’s house on Sunday and we had a birthday cake for Paul’s first birthday. I remember Paul’s delight every time the choir started to sing.

This time the whole family zoned out on the couch in cold-induced delirium as the prophet and apostles spoke. I unfortunately don’t recall many of the messages, except it seemed everyone was talking about temples.

Yes, we were all sick. Again. Will the winter cold season never end?

Which is worse:

  • holding my feverish and miserable son while also feeling feverish and miserable
  • letting my energy-filled son hit me on my head with his toys all day long because I’m feverish and miserable and I don’t have the energy (or a voice) to say “please don’t” over and over again

Ever since I woke up this morning, the phrase “Sorry, Closed” has been going through my head. Why today? Because today was the day my husband (who has also been sick) got up before dawn and flew to Manhattan for the next four days. (He did offer to stay home, bless his heart.)

My mind has been telling my body all day to just put up a big sign: “Sorry, I’m Closed Today.” Hence, the toys hitting me on the head. All. Day. Long. (Apparently, the last 48 hours of almost-constant sleep helped Paul to get better. I’m glad. I really am.)

But we all know, moms never close, do we?

Off to put the laundry away. Maybe.

Under-Exciting

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I guess I thought that by paying THOUSANDS of dollars, I’d be overly excited with the final result. Not so. It’s just a roof. I stepped back and looked at the house for the first time and thought, “Oh. That’s it.”

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On the other hand, it’s a ROOF that I own! The insurance company will insure it! I won’t get rained on! I don’t have to replace it for 25 years! Yeay!

It does look a lot better. (And then I look at these pictures and think it looks just the same! Can you even tell the difference?!)

Before pictures:

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948 Days

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I learned this week that the house we bought at the end of January had been on the market 948 days.

That means that it went on the market approximately on June 26, 2006.

Ryan and I had been married for just over a month. He was still working from home. I had yet to start graduate school and then drop out of it. Paul was not even thought of yet. I was still working as a proofreader at an accounting firm driving 50 miles each direction.

I told that to Ryan and he said “Why were we the suckers that bought it?”

Ha ha.

We love it. Especially since it was far below market as a pre-foreclosure by the time we got it.

Even assuming they’d sold it below market from the beginning, we couldn’t have bought it 948 days earlier (as we were newlyweds unsure which way were were going to go). We couldn’t have bought it 583 days earlier (as we had just moved to Australia). We couldn’t have bought it even 100 days earlier (as we were still tied to our apartment). We bought it at the right time. And it’s the right place. What a blessing for us!

Off to $replace$ the roof this week. Feel free to oooo and aaaaaah over our Weathered Gray shingles next time you come visit!

Musings on Cleaning with a Kid

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I told Paul he could stay in the family room, playing with his toys: I was going to clean the bathrooms. I put the Scrubbing Bubbles container on the corner of the kitchen table and grabbed a few rags from the laundry room.

In the ten seconds I was gone, Paul grabbed the cleanser. (Apparently, he is now tall enough to reach things on the table. Make a note of that.) Then he took off the lid (I have no idea how he was successful so quickly) and went into the bathroom. When I walked into the bathroom, he was rubbing the green nozzle of the bathroom cleaner on the lid of the toilet. (He knew the bubbles had something to do with the nozzle, but wasn’t sure how to get the bubbles out.)

Wow. I was blown away.

Now, I’d love for you to suppose this is a reflection on how often I clean the toilets. Trust me – that is not the case. It’s been at least two weeks since I cleaned the bathrooms and the time before that was, I think, when we first moved in (three weeks before that). I think I just have the most clean-aware child on the face of the planet. Or maybe he’s just going through a very serious “I want to imitate Mommy” stage.

After I sprayed the cleanser on the countertops, Paul grabbed the hand towel and tried to reach the counters himself. As I Swiffer-ed the bathroom floors, Paul tried to steal the Swiffer from me. When I scrubbed the toilets, he wanted to take the brush away from me and splash it in the toilet too. (I didn’t let him, and he was very sad.)

(Paul did dip his finger in some of the Scrubbing Bubbles and put it in his month. Ooops. Trust me, Paul, that’s not whipped cream! I think he realized that when he made such a face…)

I don’t think this interest in cleaning is normal for an (almost) 18-month-old. Or is it?

Don’t get me wrong — I’d love to encourage it. I personally hate cleaning the bathrooms (among other things) and I dreaded Saturday mornings  as a kid when my sister and I were forced to clean (although we made up for it by singing “It’s a Hard-Knock Life” the whole time because our “mean mom” was like Miss Hannigan when she made us do chores). I look forward to the day when I can make cleaning the bathrooms a weekly chore for my son and not for me.  Wouldn’t it be nice if he actually liked to clean?!

I was going to post this little anecdote on Paul’s Page (where I post weekly updates and stories about Paul). But then I was hoping that some of the other moms out there can share their thoughts. At what age were your kids competent at cleaning? Did they ever express an interest in cleaning with you? How do I keep him interested in helping (even though, right now, he really isn’t helping)?