I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this before, but Ryerson is a very precise child… while Gage and Carter toss their dirty clothes on the floor and let their shorts fall where they may, Ryerson doesn’t stand for that kind of chaos in his laundry. His pajama bottoms must be folded at 45 degree angles, and only then can they be placed neatly in the hamper.
Seriously. If you look in the dictionary under the word “anal”, there you’ll find a picture of Ryerson lining up his toys in 1 1/2 inch increments, according to height and color.
He doesn’t like to sleep with the ceiling fan on because he’s afraid it’ll “mess his hair” and he won’t go to sleep until his bedroom is cleared of toys and the occasional sippie cup.
“Mommy, there’s a Lego on the floor.”
“That’s fine, we’ll get it in the morning. Now, go to sleep.”
“No, Mommy, NOW! It’s buggin’ me.”
Every night when we’re finished brushing his teeth, his toothbrush needs to be put away in the tootbrush holder, not just thrown on the counter as Gage and Carter are prone to do, and last week he had a meltdown when I had the audacity to pick up his toys… I had moved his toys that he had been playing with in the living room off to the side so that I could vacuum the cookie crumbs and piles of Moon Sand littering the floor.
“MOMMY, I was PLAYING with that!”
“Ryerson, I need to vacuum before your dad gets home. You’re tracking Moon Sand all over the house and it’s making a mess.”
“YOU’RE RUINING MY MESS!”
Somewhere in this mess is a plan... I just haven't been able to find it yet.
When I finished vacuuming, him and I spent fifteen minutes putting everything back exactly where it was before I had moved it. I thought I’d be able to get away with piling the toys in the middle of the rug, but he had other ideas…
“Mommy, that’s not where it was.”
“It’s not?”
“No, it was HERE!”
And he would walk up to the said toy and move it to where it was before I had so thoughtlessly moved it… which was evidently two inches to the left. When we finally finished, the mess was exactly the way it was before I started vacuuming… minus the crumbs and Moon Sand.
As annoying as it is, the other day while I was cleaning the house I found myself lining up the remotes and fluffing the pillows until each pillow was equally fluffed… and then I was proud. He gets it from me.
To celebrate, tomorrow him and I are going to Applebee’s, where we’ll sit at our usual table and eat our Oriental Chicken Salad and grilled cheese with silverware I brought from home and scream obscenities at the waitresses.
And that’s as good as it gets.
Filed under: The Edge Of Insanity
That’s too funny! Hey at least your mess is like mine, it’s a clean mess..lol
Kirst
heck! that is how my oldest son is! that is one trait of his that I am glad for! It means that he knows what he wants and when he wnats it. Sometimes it gets annoying but I prefer a neat and clean kid versus a messy one.
Oh my! LOL My oldest was like this — he is still pretty neat actually, except that he doesn’t notice things like dust and dirt! Everything is always in their place though!
Omigosh, can we trade kids? I would kill for one like that! My hands are shaking as I write this, I am SO envious!
I really really wish my kids were like that, Sam. I really do!
If I could get about 78 percent of that quality and inject it into my boys, I would do so in a heartbeat. Especially after the three-day dig out I just got done with in the basement they play in. Strike that. I’m not fully done yet. There’s still a bit more to do, and I’m way antsy about sitting here, knowing the entire job isn’t done yet. I’m a wee bid specific!
Also? That frickin’ Moon Sand. Seriously. It’s like the devil scratched his head, scooped up the scalings, and said, “Here, let this be a delight to children and a pain in the ass to their mothers!”
Isn’t it hysterical how every child has their own personality? Oh, and the Moon Sand…past that point…thank God. *whew*