Calling a Bluff

As an educator to hormonally imbalanced and sometimes quite idiotic adolescents, I quite often spend my time calling people's bluffs. It's amazing to me how we are all born with an invisible line that dares to be crossed.  We sometimes are the ones doing the crossing and other times, we're the ones daring another to cross. I've become quite good at recognizing a bluff as a bluff, but let me reiterate, I'm old and experienced.  My poor children. They seriously don't have much of a fighting chance to pull anything over me.  However, they are strong little girls and stubborn like crazy so already in their lives, they've made me call their bluffs.  Today was one of those days.

Thing 2 has a notorious and awful habit of thinking that cleaning up is standing in the doorway and tossing your toys into your room.  Thus, the issue.  I've been watching her and waiting for her to suddenly understand the importance of her toys, of which she has quite a few, mostly hand me downs from Thing 1.  That moment never arrived.  I asked her daycare provider if she helped clean up there.  The smirk and shake of the head was clear enough indication that we had a habit forming that needed to be broken and soon.  I refuse to raise slobs.  Yes, I know, I may eat those words someday when they're in those "rebellious teen years" I hear so much about, but when they're small and my house is filled with their crap, they will not be slobs.

I literally gave Thing 2 a warning two days ago that her toys were going bye bye since she couldn't pick them up.  "Where they go, Mama?"

"Well, probably into a garbage bag so I can take them to another little girl who will love My Little Ponies and Barbies," I replied.

"I go get the bag," she stated matter of factly and by golly, she had a garbage bag in her hand and was standing in the door.  "You clean it."

At this point, my blood began to boil, but I remained calm.  I also realized I was in a pickle because I wasn't ready to truly tackle the whole project of getting rid of things. However, I began to throw things in the bag and she didn't flinch. Dang. I was seriously going to have to up the ante. I left some in the bag, but put the bag in her room and reminded her that if this wasn't cleaned up, it was gone tomorrow.

Tomorrow came. She didn't care. I was grumpy and had had it with life for the moment, so I walked into the house and said, "Thing 1, help me rid your sister of her mess, please."  Thing 1 was happy to oblige because there is always a little fun to be had when your sibling is screaming her head off and you get to be on the better end of the screaming. The toys were emptied within 10 mins. The screaming lasted 40. I ignored.  Thing 1 went about daily business. Thing 2 eventually stopped, went and stood in her room, grabbed her one toy that had been put away and came out to the kitchen where the computer is.

"I love you too much to let you be disobedient, Thing 2. I love you so much I want you to understand how important it is to take care of our things." I gave her a quick cheek kiss and went back to work.   She sniffed and licked her running boogers.

"I love you too, Mama."  If only I had the ability to "get over" things as quickly as she does.  Of course, we'll see what the next hour brings....