I am permanently searching for miscellaneous items in our house … the vast majority not being for me.
I place my car keys on the cow-design key holder when I come in to the house. I put my shoes in my cupboard or next to my bed. My clothes go into the wash box, and my smaller items go on the side table next to my bed, right next to my book and my cell phone.
I know where my things are, as I do not have time to find them later as I am too busy finding stuff for other members of my family.
My kids come to me when they can’t find their clothes, shoes, bags, toys, books and so on – as if I have a built-in radar to locate these things.
They tend to get upset as kids do – so often misplaced things are treated like critical emergencies. I have to stop what I am doing and go and assist them to find it – which actually means they sit on the bed and start telling me arb and seldom interesting stories while I am on my hands and knees looking in cupboards and under beds.
Kennith has also taken to asking me where things are – which I find really annoying. Kennith’s ability to put things away in their correct place is often left wanting. He will usually go: “I can’t find my xyz – have you seen it?”
I will always reply – with a slight condescending tone in my voice: “where did you leave it?” implying that where he left it is the reason that he is now including me in this rather jolly version of hide-and-go-seek.
Kennith’s answer will inevitably be – on the floor, next to the bed, in the lounge, on the dining room table or some other random spot. Somehow his inability to put anything back in its correct spot and the fact that he spends ages looking for it, and then asking me to be part of the search has not really correlated in his mind. So he continues to place items randomly about the house and then gets himself worked up when these items cannot be located. It often appears to be the “maid’s fault…”
Our maid takes her job rather seriously in terms of tidying up and packing away – which again seems to come as a shock to those who leave their precious possession lying around.
Connor and Georgia are both at school. Fetching them in the afternoons has really become more a game of remembering what they were wearing, what they were carrying and then retrieving all these items before we get into the car.
If I am distracted, we will drive off and I will realise we are missing shoes, juice bottles, lunch boxes, school bags, jackets and various other items of a personal nature.
None of this affects them directly. It only seems to affect me as I will need to go and find them the next day. If they are really gone, then I will need to purchase another one. It seems you cannot send your child to school without lunch, shoes and a jacket and be expected to be viewed as a good parent – even if you send a note to school explaining that you are teaching a valuable life lesson.
Last week Connor lost his book bag. It is a large blue zipper bag – and contains all his work that he is doing at school, including homework book, any notices of events, flip files that contain current work – in short it is really an important bag that he needs in class every day.
So he loses it on Thursday.
Friday he says he has looked everywhere for it. Now I am not sure how he has looked everywhere when he cannot give me a list with one location that he has looked.
We go off to lost property on Friday afternoon and it is not there. We cannot go to his class as it is locked, so I am convinced it is at home. I spend a fair bit of Saturday morning and a bit on Sunday looking for this bag, sure that he has brought it home and he has misplaced it there, as he has so clearly explained he has looked EVERYWHERE at the school.
There I am crawling under beds, looking inside things, checking the boot of the car and so on. Connor, has no idea where this thing in – I think the only reason that he is looking mildly upset is because I have explained how serious it is if this bag is lost for good. I have used my angry-mommy voice, which is very much like my angry-bridezilla voice at the moment.
Monday I leave work early, as now I am going to school to collect him and play project-find-the-flipp’n-book-bag.
I arrive at school, and happiness is – he has found his book bag. Yay!
My natural question is “where was it?” He sort of mumbles a bit. I lean forward to extract an answer. It seems it was in after care. The same place he said he looked – exhaustively – on Friday. After care is only so big.
From this I gauge - and from his manner of talking which is a tad sheepish – that Master Connor actually spent no time at all on Friday looking for his book bag. He used his time wisely playing with his mates on the field. Which I concur is a good way to spend your time if you are eight years old. But not if you are losing things, and making your flipping mom spend ages looking for something that is not lost, was never lost and now mom is leaving work early to come and look for it.
So clearly even though Connor found his book bag I am slightly less than excited.
Why you might say, in that judgemental tone you reserve for moms who are a tad too hard on their kids.
Well simply because at the time, I was reversing back into the school so Connor could go back to after care to find his lunch bag which he had now lost!
And this my friends, is why mothers MUST drink!