Magic Trash

Most all of y'all know that before I had kids, I was a public school teacher. 
(Actually, I'm a 4th generation educator- because THOSE GENES RUN DEEP.)

Anywho, I taught in a public school for several years before I became a SAHM (shout out to Oriole Beach Elementary!) and then transitioned into a homeschool freak. I mean, home educator. I don't have the required perm or denim jumper. Yet.  ::wink:: 

Last night, there were about 417 Lego pieces on my living room rug. People, those things are the bane of my existence sometimes. It's like, HOW ON EARTH do they scatter so quickly??! And SO FAR from the big kid's bedroom??! I'm not kidding, I stepped on one in my side yard throwing a bag of trash in our collection can the other day. I think Satan plants them under my feet to test my spiritual condition. Well played Satan, well played. 

Back to the living room catastrophe. The Legos are everywhere, along with a few crayons, some abandoned Mr. Potato Head appendages and a couple of puzzle pieces, just for good measure. I sat down in a tiny white chair next to my window facing my back yard and wept bitterly at the task laid out in front of me. (Not really. But almost.) As I was sighing dramatically to myself, a light bulb went off in my head and an angel came down from Heaven, sent by The Father Himself and whispered two magical words in my ear: "Maaagic Traaash". 

I called the kids away from their wrestling match/hide and seek game/squeal session/bookshelf dumping exercise and explained to them that I had a game to play. I told them that I'd spied one special Lego on the floor, and that whom ever found it and picked it up would be the winner. I sent them to grab their empty and abandoned animal cracker cups (another few items littering my living room floor) and told them to pick up as many Legos as they could while I counted down from 50. THEY TOOK OFF LIKE A SHOT. 

They were digging in couch cushions and behind curtains and underneath furniture. They scrambled through our dining room and our kitchen on their Lego seeking mission. All three of them filled their cups with an impressive amount of Plastic Weapons of Death before I finished and when the winner was announced, they happily dumped them back into the plastic bin where they belong. We played a few more rounds picking up Mr. Potato Head arms and crayons and puzzles and counting bears and it blew my mind how much easier this was than cajoling them to clean up or standing over them like a dictator ordering them to pick up specific things. 

We played "Magic Trash" all.the.time. when I taught school and it never occurred to me until last night to play it at home, too. I woke up this morning to a clean living room, a tidy rug and I was able to fix my coffee without stepping on a single sharp Lego. I've got a good feeling this whole "Magic Trash" gig is going to be sticking around for a while. 

HALLELUJAH and Amen. 

And thanks for stopping by! ~Katie. 

He's My Built In BFF.

 Husbands make the best Best Friends. 

Friendship and laughter and inside jokes and Starbucks stops are what make road trips with three kids, a dog, 17 pounds of animal cracker crumbs and a tiny toilet that's shoved in the back of your SUV actually survivable. (Even if it does mean he jerks the steering wheel every time you try to take a picture of yourself with your grown up unsweetened cup of coffee.) 

Marriage y'all. IT'S GOOD STUFF.

And thanks for stopping by! ~Katie. 

The (un)Sweet Life

Friends, we have a VERY SERIOUS topic to discuss.

Earlier today, I forgot to sweeten my coffee. I realized my misstep after the first sip but seeing as I'd finally managed to wrangle all the kids into actually sitting down and doing their morning school work, I decided to push through and drink it at the table rather than to get up and afford them an opportunity to scatter. They're fast and they can sense weakness. It's like a sixth sense.

Y'all, here's the scary part: I DID NOT HATE IT. I feel like I don't know who I am anymore so I decided to test things this afternoon by intentionally using cream only and *gasp!* this coffee I hold in my hand is rich and creamy and delicious.

WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME? Please put me on your prayer list because I'm having an identity crisis.

And thanks for stopping by! ~Katie.