Okay, a little break and now back to the projects at hand. Time to turn my attention back to the clothing and the photos…sigh. Charlie’s room is done, onto Andrew’s, this is where it’s going to get a little tougher since he’s growing like a weed and is continually getting “good” clothes from his two older cousins. Andrew is also getting to the point where he definitely has his favorite items of clothing to wear and it’s becoming a bit of a bone of contention between the two of us. My position is that you put on clean clothes every single day. He maintains that if the clothes aren’t actively trying to crawl into the hamper on their own they’re not dirty and if the item still even slightly resembles it’s original shape and color, it’s still good. We really have got to find some middle ground on this one. Or I can just seize my opportunity while he’s at school, that’s the plan at this point.
That's not going to work, dammit. He's growing so fast that clothes I bought mere weeks ago don't fit anymore. I'm going to need his actual body here before I can legitimately throw a single item away or put them in storage...shoot! This project has suddenly taken an ugly turn, up until this point, I have been able to purge items with reckless abandon. I have been the only authority, my opinion of what's tossable has been the only that mattered, it seems that time has passed. A moment to mourn my organizational autonomy. Deep sigh and off to corral the resistant boy. He's going to LOVE this project as it's going to consume PS2 time and require effort on his part...and trying on every pair of pants currently stuffed in his dresser. Threats and bribery may be my only options here. What can I offer a fourteen year old boy in exchange for repeatedly dressing and undressing over the course of an afternoon? I'm thinking the "you'll have a clean room and organized dresser" reward probably isn't as appealing to him as it is to me. The "I'm not doing your laundry until this is done" threat really doesn't seem to strike the desired amount of terror into his teenaged heart as I had hoped. I believe he was mocking me when he fell to his knees, grabbed my ankles and cried "Please mom, anything but THAT!" And once upon a time I was THRILLED he was talking...but that was long, long ago.
I have discovered recently that many 'conversations' with my son don't seem to require any talking on my part. The Playstation and this very computer are in the same room, frequently he's on the PS2 while I'm here at my trusty keyboard, he keeps a running patter going while he refights WW2 and I don't think I'm actually supposed to respond. On the rare occasions he says something I think is directed at me and respond accordingly, I get a rather withering stare and a "I was talking to the guy on the game." Silly me, I thought it was just digitally created figures on a Tv screen, ain't technology grand?
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