Happy New Year to you all! I hope you had a wonderful holiday season, and are ready to face the New Year with open arms! My children are a little sensitive right now, due to their own educational experience over the holiday. As I mentioned previously, teachers have a hard time just doing nothing during a break. Oh, don’t misunderstand – we can do nothing for a day or two – but then we find things to do that we don’t have time for when school is in session!
At my house, with the addition of new toys, I felt the need to get rid of the old. I spent a day roaming through the house carrying a box of trash bags on a search and destroy mission. The first target: my sons’ room. They collect junk. Treasures to them, I know, but….still…an old candy wrapper? A pencil that is only half an inch long? My youngest son tried to defend his toys:
Son: But I still like that.
Me: It’s broken.
Son: I’ll fix it.
Me: No, it can’t be fixed. It’s broken.
Son: I can fix it.
Me: No, it’s trash.
Son: No, wait – I’ll get the duct tape!
Me to husband: This is your fault. (toss broken, dilapidated toy)
In the midst of all this, my youngest daughter came into the room and saw the filled trash bags. After staring silently for a few moments she spoke, “Mom, I’m scared.” I asked her why. “Because I’m afraid I’m next.” I gazed at her somberly for a moment before replying, in my most menacing voice, “You are, my dear….you are….” Strangely enough, she left the room quickly.
Finally, after digging under beds, mattresses, in closets, and every hidey hole I found (hundreds!), I left my two boys with what was left to organize and clean. Carrying my box of trash bags I ventured into the girls’ room where I was met by my youngest daughter.
Daughter: I already sorted out my toys.
Me: Oh, really?
Daughter: Yes, you don’t have to do anything.
Me: Hmm. I think I’ll take a look.
Daughter: (waving toward two piles) See? That pile is what I don’t play with anymore. You can take that.
I looked around the room and found a rather intimidating looking pile behind the bed. So I asked her about it.
Daughter: Oh, dad told me to put that there.
Me: (turning to look at husband, who had followed me to witness the carnage) Oh?
Daughter: Yes, he told me to put it out of the way.
Me: (as the aforementioned dad defended himself) I don’t think that is what he meant. Let me help.
Daughter: (as I began filling a bag) Mom, you are torturing me! Will it never end??
My older children didn’t fuss much, being experienced in the ways of the trash bag clean up. In fact, my oldest son decided (when we was about 7) to get rid of all his toys. When I asked him why, he said, “So I won’t have to clean my room.” As a result, he doesn’t keep much “stuff”. He doesn’t want to have to clean it. Boy logic for you. My oldest daughter simply engaged in that teenage girl response of heavy sighs and eye rolling and “whatever”. She did protest somewhat over the books…tattered, no cover, falling apart, and sentences with only 3 words – but she “likes it”. My mantra for the day was: It’s broken, it’s torn, it’s trash.
Now we are all getting ready to head back to begin the second semester of school in the year 2011. I plan to carry trash bags into my own classroom and work toward cleaning out my own hidey holes and “junk”. It will be torture….and I’ll engage in some heavy sighing of my own. But I will recite my mantra: It’s broken, it’s torn, it’s trash. Perhaps I can find some duct tape….
Christine Moore currently holds a degree from Howard Payne University and recently earned her master’s degree in curriculum and instruction. She is now working on her Ph.D. in Educational Technology. Married with four children who attend Brownwood schools, Christine teaches 6th grade reading in Brownwood and has been working in education at various levels for the past 15 years. Christine welcomes your questions and comments and would love to hear from you!
