When the cat’s away, the mice will play

I am a very organized person.  Many times, to a fault.

In the shower, all bottles have to have their labels facing out.  I always can tell if The Doctor has used my shampoo or face wash because it’s not put back exactly where I put it.  I am obsessed about where things should be put.  I know exactly where each thing on my bathroom cupboard goes.  And don’t get me started on the fridge.  Each shelf has a purpose and leftovers should go on the leftovers shelf, not the shelf for the water bottles!  When I put my hair up in electric curlers, I take one from one side, and then one from the other.  I have to keep the empty spots even. 

So when I had children, it became a daily struggle to let the toys stay on the floor and not constantly be picking up.  I had to learn, and I am still learning, that the house can be a little cluttered.  Not all the time.  The kids never go to bed without picking up and putting away.

The Chocoholic is exactly like me.  He is clean and organized.  The Teenager and The Princess are somewhere in the middle.  They will pick up when I ask them to, but their bedrooms aren’t the cleanest. 

The Artist is a COMPLETELY different story.  He is so creative and artistic and funny, but he is a slob.  That may sound cruel, and I love him very, very much, but that child drives me nuts.  He leaves his dirty clothes (and his clean clothes) on the floor, toys on the floor…oh face it, he leaves everything on the floor.  Stuff on the dresser and the bed.  Stuff everywhere!  I send him down to clean his room and he will lay on his bed and play.  It is so frustrating. 

This week he is gone to Scout camp.  From Monday morning until Saturday afternoon.  I thought this would be the perfect time to clean his room.  And when I say clean, I mean pull everything out and clean and organize.  So this morning, I headed down at 10:30. 

I finished at 3:00. 

Seriously.

I stripped the bed, then started picking up the floor and I just put it all on the bed.  I pulled everything out of the closet and organized it.  I pulled everything out of the dresser drawers and sorted out the too small clothes and FOLDED (novel concept to him) and put it away.  I cleaned out behind the dresser and under the bed and behind the door. Then I went through everything that was on the bed and got it sorted and put away.  And thrown away.  I filled an entire garbage bag full of garbage and broken toys and old Lego magazines. 

When he was packing for camp, I asked him if he needed to do his laundry.  He brought up his laundry basket and showed me that it was only 1/3 full.  Well, by the time I got done today, the basket was overflowing and it took two washer loads to get it done. 

The sad thing is I know it won’t last.  Probably not even until the end of next week.  Perhaps the chaos is needed in order for him to be creative.  He is The Artist, after all.

I love this kid so much.  But I will continue to harass him to clean and pick up until the day he moves out.  And when he gets married, I will apologize profusely to his wife.