I took the day off of work today to take the boys to their dentist appointments, and they also happened to be off for a teacher work day. I had loads of school work to catch up on, but Trevor was begging to go spend some of his birthday money, so we did stop at GameStop. Before the dentist we went to eat breakfast with my mom (they call her Granny). Trevor started complaining on the way to breakfast that his stomach and head hurt, but he was reading in the car so I assumed it was car sickness. It was not. He didn't eat any breakfast except toast. He changed his mind on birthday shopping and then slept for two hours when we got home. He slowly woke up and moved from our bed which he then proceeded to vomit all over. I felt kind of bad for picking on him about reading in the car. He also kept telling me that it was his day off and he just wanted to go home and sit on the couch. I told him to stop being lazy that it was a beautiful day and he should go play outside. I'm a jerk. I guess that's why I got to clean up the barf.
Something momentous happened before the barfening! I shit you negative, we cleared out the stuffed animals. I told them that we were going to go through all of their stuffed animals and they could decide which ones to keep and which ones to get rid of. I promised myself that I would allow them agency over their own toys, and stick to their decisions. Which I mostly did. We managed to mostly fill a black trash bag with unloved toys. My library is starting to look like trash-henge. That's like Stonehenge but for trash bags. Jokes are so much funnier when you have to explain them. Back to unloved stuffed animals. When I told them we were doing this, and it was not the first time we talked about it, Grayson disintegrated into a puddle of tears. He wept like I told him I was going to drop him off at the fire station forever. I mean, it was rough. He was absolutely heart broken and instantly started naming the animals he wanted to keep: "But what about Daniel Tiger? If I keep him can I still keep Hobbs? I don't want to throw away Blue Puppy or Dino-Thor!"
I was very proud of myself, though. I stayed strong and really made some significant cuts. It was hard, but I did it. Trevor mostly rolled on his bed claiming he didn't feel good while I forced him to make decisions about his stuffed animals like the class-A mom I am. Maybe I should try to work in some more emotional trauma before bed. I'm sure I could get a really good conversation going about the intricacies of a good dick or fart joke. Like there are bad dick and fart jokes. We calmed Grayson down, Trevor bald-faced lied to him and said we weren't throwing them away, just putting them in storage, and I explained that he didn't have to get rid of anything he liked, only stuff he didn't play with. Now I wonder if Trevor really thinks they're going into storage . . . Conversation for another day.
In summation it was a productive day, both on The Plan and on the home front. There was breakfast, two dentist appointments (during which Grayson actually farted multiple times so badly that I had to apologize to the office staff), GameStop, clearing of no-longer-beloved stuffed animals, fierce and furious reading of Dante's Inferno, we helped catch an escaped neighborhood dog (Scrappy), Trevor napped for two hours and then puked on my bed, I then washed my bedclothes, did this week's school writing assignments, made soup for Trevor, typed up this fascinating expose' into the daily life of a 40-year-old suburban mom, and might now hang out with my husband and play some Frozen Free-Fall. Good evening, dear readers.
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