This morning I walked through my house, trying not to see things.
I tried not to see the underwear packaging left on the floor by my two teenage boys. The clothes my daughter left on the bathroom floor. The cereal bowl on the counter of a few floating Honey Nut Cheerios.
Note, though I left them there, I asked my children to pick them up. Which means first identifying who left it out; usually there are a total of four “not me”’s. Then I had to make sure they followed through. That takes a lot more time than if I just whisked them up myself and actually deposited them where they belong, which is not a guarantee with child help.
Not-seeing is a challenge for me because, while I am not the Queen of Clean as my mother is, I still don’t really dream of underwear packaging on the floor. I prefer my spaces relatively tidy and Cheerio-free. And like that whole “broken windows” theory? The more things aren’t picked up, the more people seem to leave their junk around. So there’s that.
More than that, my kids’ clutter, for some reason, feels like sticky notes all. Over. The house. They are written to me. They read something like, In case you missed it, you’re doing a really bad job at raising responsible adults. Forget world-changers! Your kids don’t even see mess. Let alone PICK IT UP.
But a funny thing happens at my house: When I clean up after my kids, they don’t actually get any better at it.
Today I’m writing again at WeAreThatFamily.com–on the ways and the “whys” behind us overfunctioning for our kids…and actually preventing them from some valuable character. Could all our efforts to be “good moms” actually stand in the way of kids’ character? Hop on over and check it out!
