Mom's lending library?

Over the course of my children's lives I have tried to instill in them a love and respect for books. While they are voracious readers, I have yet to see them actually put any books back on their shelves. They are on the staircase between the spindles, they are on the floor, they are interspersed in the art center, they are on the sofa, they are even flung around the car with abandon.

A friend of mine is the librarian at a local jail. She was telling me how she has to dole out paper one piece at a time and they are only allowed three pieces. I am thinking of taking all the books and locking them up in a closed stack with a "catalogue" of sorts where the children can request up to three books at one time, however, if they are not returned, they will be subjected to reading "Harriet, You Drive Me Wild!" for months on end. Perhaps then my lovely cherubs will actually not only love reading books, but also respect their books.

Mommy's Tantrum

Germany seems like a wisp of a dream from last week. Already, the vestiges of vacation have let their grasp weaken and not even one week into real life, I have snapped. at. my. three. darling. children. I need a drink. or a shoulder to cry upon.

Today, I am feeling like having a meltdown. I have watched for years as my little boy unable to express himself has slipped into such temper tantrums that only a parent of a child with Asperger's or some similar thing could possibly understand. Tonight, I am beginning to see what this frustration bubbling over feels like. It started yesterday actually.

The girls had a play date and left their paper scraps, scissors, markers, crayons and mats all over the living room. Seeing that they will be 8 this summer, I decided that they should clean it up by themselves. After asking three times for them to clean up yesterday, I made the mistake of letting them go to bed with the task undone. Then this morning before school, I again asked, but in the hubbub of trying to get out the door, etc. I forgot to check if it was completed.

Today I decided to stay home to do some cleaning and purposely left the living room floor for the children to deal with. After dinner, I again asked them to clean this mess up. Our son decided to clean up some toys from the dining room table, so I told him he did not need to do the clean up if he was doing other clean up. The girls decided when they heard this that they could scan through iTunes for songs to play, play with a doll house that was already put away while claiming they were cleaning, staple another craft, and punch hearts into a paper. All the while, I was losing my steam.

So, I admit it, I did what my parents would have done more than 30 years ago: I lost my stuffing and started to scream. I screamed and I screamed. I felt beads of blood begin to boil in my veins. My head was close to exploding. All over 20 little scraps of paper, 3 pairs of scissors and two tubs of crayons and markers. Really what did I accomplish? After shedding some tears, the girls finally cleaned up the mess. A two minute project took over 60 minutes to complete and here I am steam abating, wondering just how they will remember tonight's incident.

On the upside, I felt the uncontrollable temper tantrum that Gregory experiences at least once a week. I felt the helplessness of not being able to control it. The silver lining is that I understand him a little more tonight. This photo was taken last week in Duisburg, Germany. It is a calming point for me right now. So I leave you with that and invite you to listen to Mr. Tambourine Man, sip some Malbec and relax with me. Cheers!