Children and the Corporal Works of Mercy

I was a bit annoyed with Big Girl today (and Little Girl, but since the latter developed a fever late in the day, Big Girl was the one who bore the brunt of that feeling). Their bedroom was SUCH a disaster that I couldn't walk across the floor without stepping on something. Seriously, I was being careful, trying to help Little Girl into PJ's, and I stepped on about three toys and two different pieces of clothing.

Needless to say, I was not pleased, and I started my clean-up, and threatened Big Girl with, "I will throw away all this," as I gestured to a particular corner of the room, "if you don't get it off the floor and put away. And don't shove it in the closet, either."

It got remarkably clean in short order, but I did grab a bag and start pitching particular things that (a) were junky Happy Meal sorts of toys or (b) were trash.

I know they're young, but it annoys me so much. And the excuse just really rubs me wrong. "But we have too much stuff to take care of it that well!"

Well, guess what? That means you have too much stuff, period. Soccer Dad and I need to do something about that, but together. I won't be the "bad guy" here by myself. It has to be a team thing.

Anyway, I came downstairs to finish up my certification course for the home business I'm starting, and I finally finished up around 1 a.m. (I have GOT to make it through a day without a nap so I can go to bed at a normal hour!) I had promised Little Girl, who had been running a fever just over 101, that I'd check on her before I went to bed. She had insisted on sleeping in the guest room, and when I arrived there, I saw that she had her lovey, Brown Cinderella Bear. I smooched her face (much cooler), took her temperature (98.3), and stroked her hair. She looked up at me with sleepy eyes, squinting in the light coming in from the hallway. "Do you feel okay? Are you cold?" I asked.

"No. I'm okay."

"Did Big Girl bring you Brown Cinderella Bear?"

"Yes."

"That was so sweet. What a nice sister you have." I noticed that she also had a wet washcloth hanging on the bed rail. (It's a metal daybed, so it wasn't so bad.) "Did Big Girl bring in that washcloth so cool off your face?"

"Yes."

I have to say something here. I get really annoyed with them sometimes, because they don't care for the things that they've been given (including puzzles or toys that Soccer Dad and I have saved from our own childhood). I want them to care for their things, but at the same time, I've emphasized that things are just stuff, and, therefore, not important in the grand scheme of things. (This is especially being emphasized in our quest to follow Dave Ramsey's plan, which includes selling our beautiful minivan.)

And I think that, despite them not caring well for their things, they've gotten that message down. Big Girl wanted to sleep on the floor near Little Girl tonight, but I insisted that she sleep in her own bed. But she sneaked out for a bit to try to comfort her sister. Corporal Works of Mercy, indeed! I'm so proud of her for that. She's such a sweet girl, and is always trying her best to take care of everyone.

I must remember to tell her that in the morning.





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