Now that we live in a two-story house, I often send the kids up to their rooms and/or the playroom/guest room to play. (They’re not unsupervised, they’re just audio supervised.) Some of the things that I hear (and sometimes have to respond to) are interesting, or let’s be honest, just plain ridiculous. This is a chronicle of a few of those times.
Sending Caedmon up to watch a movie on the guest bed for his rest time, I warned: “Don’t get up until I come to get you.”
“But what if my movie is over before rest time is over?”
“If you fast forward through all the slow parts and watch all the good parts of your movie before time is up, then have to go back and watch the slow parts again, that’s not my problem.”
(The lesson hasn’t been learned, by the way.)
The kids were upstairs in their respective bedrooms for roomtime. (Roomtime is when they play alone in their rooms for a little while each day. It’s a wonderful practice.) Caedmon was told he must pick up his room before he was allowed to get other toys out to play. As this was not the news he wanted to hear, he proceeded to pitch an epic fit – behind his closed door. Before I could get upstairs to put a stop to the tantrum, I heard Honor yelling across the hall, “Caedmon! Stop your fit crying! You’re ok!”
It’s good to know the fullness of my gift of mercy is being passed down.
While playing together upstairs:
Caedmon: Honor, my LEGOs are in the playroom, and I don’t want you to mess them up. So, I guess we can go in your room and have a tea party. *deep sigh*
(A different day than above)
Caedmon: Honor, do you want to have a tea party?
Caedmon: Ok, but will you let me shoot all your stuffed animals with my Nerf gun if I have a tea party with you?
Honor: No, that’s not fair!
Honor: Ok, you can shoot them.
There’s a heavy price to pay for a decent tea party around here.