…and it will take every ounce of your strength. That is how that phrase should read. Never having been to an actual war, I can only imagine, but it seems to me there are some deep comparisons there. Daily skirmishes. Bone wary struggles. Blood, sweat and tears. Post traumatic stress. Financial drain. Lack of sleep. And the lack of ability to tell while in the trenches if you are winning.
Take last night for example. Faith and Isaac wanted to watch a movie in Isaac’s room. (Yes, there are TVs in the bedrooms. Don’t judge me. It affords me 15 minutes of peace and quiet every other Tuesday or so. It is worth it.) I said sure. They are not allowed to take up food or drinks. They are not allowed to jump on the bed. And lacking the foresight, I neglected to make a rule about taking all of the clothes out of the dresser and tossing them about the room all willy -nilly. And there was not a rule about taking apart lamps. Now there is. I went up to put David to bed and found bowls, every stitch of Isaac’s clothing, cups, DVDs, sheets, and stuffed animals all over the place. There was a lamp shade hanging from the fan blade. Which apparently took three tries. The mattress was off the bed in one direction, and the boards holding it up were knocked out of place. I called for them to come clean it up, and Andy brought them up. He took one look around, kicked the stuff out of the way and took the bed apart. He put the box springs and mattress on the floor. This might upset some people, but not Isaac. Now he just can fall right into bed. And we won’t know if he jumps on it. Totally missed the point.
This was only one of our skirmishes yesterday. And I can never tell if they are “getting it” on a daily basis. However, something must be sinking in because everyday Faith and Isaac (in our home the Faith and Isaac phenomenon has begun to be called Fisaac for short) dump out every single Lego- I estimate there are now 3,834 due to a rare moment of vacuuming rage during which I vacuumed one up- all over the dining room table and floor. And everyday they are surprised that they have to clean them up. Not today. For on this lovely morning, when they came down to play,and as Isaac was about to dump them out Faith shouted “Remember yesterday!!!” and they dug through for the ones they wanted instead. I have no idea what yesterday had to do with Lego clean up. I have only said not to dump them all out or they will have to clean it up for the past 932 yesterdays. One of those must have sunk in. I hope. Tomorrow is another day.
And with a not quite two year old, I estimate there are only about 7,305 tomorrows of this, if I accurately counted leap years, before the Lego’s can be sold on eBay, or even better, be packed up and given to Faith or Isaac’s children. And then I can sit here, sipping hot coffee, cause I hear that’s how it tastes best, and read Facebook messages and blogs from them and their spouses about Lego’s, lampshades and other trauma. And then I will know I have won, even if it is a last man standing type of victory. And I hear that the revenge, I mean, grandchildren are rather wonderful.
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