Sunday, October 28, 2007

Day 7.7 Curing with Kids

Today, I learned my daughter is following well in the footsteps of her mother and Grandmother. Only seven, she's already a pack-rat. Every object is a treasure, to hold an object is to tell a story. After having sent her to clean her own room for two days straight, it was still a disaster.

This room is also enormous. It used to hold both kids--their beds, two armchairs and two dressers. Now, it is the Duchy of Junk. She was told: no attending the neighbourhood halloween party today until the room was clean. We had two hours.

Those blue things on the wall are Cinderella's cut from one length of border paper. We didn't have enough to do the room, but she wanted them desperately. I think I need to freehand a ribbon or something to connect them.



(my apologies for the poor quality of these photos.)

Dad suggested we bring up the Trofast unit from the basement to house all the stuff in various boxes and baskets on the floor. I washed out all the containers while she was at Church. We put them on the bed and started filling them when she got home. Dad made lunch.

My job was the same as it is when I'm helping my Mom. I hand her stuff and say, "Stay or go?" As with my Mom, my job is to cut any story evoked by any object short. In my daughter's case, we set up a laundry basket which I kept filling and she kept emptying, sorting it into her bins. We didn't let go of much unfortunately.

However, two hours later, we had this:

To the left is the Trofast unit. It used to sit in my living room and hold ALL the toddler toys (and I thought we had too many toys then!) It needs to be sanded and painted. The girl wants "baby blue." And she doesn't want that great chair.
The table will be moved into the Dining room, for now.
That dresser, I painted many moons ago. I want to repaint it, but the girl won't let me--though she will let me put flowered knobs on it. Hmmm. We may be able to negotiate something.

We didn't touch the shelves. Well, I didn't except to remove about a half dozen magazines and a few books I had stashed in there (oops). The girl may have rearranged a few things. Can you see a difference? I can't see difference.

We got that headboard via freecycle. I wanted to paint it white. She loved it as is. So, it stayed sponged purple with stenciled burgandy angels. She says they watch over her when she sleeps.

I didn't primp to take these shots. I wanted to get a record of her room while it was clean--and that meant taking them before she got home from the party!

Next spring we may tackle the boy's room.

2 comments :

smallcitybeth said...

"Clean your room" -- three words to strike terror into the heart of any self-respecting packrat. "But it's warmer the way it is", I would say. Er, whine. Mum says she always thought I meant "warmer" in the sense of more homey. I meant in the sense of degrees of heat. I honestly believed that the stuff strewn all over my bedroom kept the room at a more comfortable temperature. If sent to clean my room, I would stuff everything into the closet. If told to clean the closet, the contents of the closet would end up strewn all over the bedroom.

You will do well if you can help her nip this packrattiness in the bud. I wish you luck. It took decades for me to overcome my tendency to sentimentally attach myself to absolutely everything.

smallcitybeth said...

By the way, I love the sloped ceiling and the perfectly centered window. I really must find that former-bedroom pic and post it. It was a smaller version of sloped ceiling and centered window.

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