the quiet in the house

A couple of days ago I was taking a late afternoon rest to ease the queasiness and exhaustion that usually overtakes me sometime before supper. I was not sleeping, just resting with a book; my bedroom is next to the living room and my favorite little people were peaceful and quiet. Every little bit I'd either haul myself up to see that all was well or ask Little B to please tell what Miss C was up to. When I say every little bit, I mean every five or ten minutes; my son was entranced in a book, my daughter in the secret hiding place behind the big chair in the corner, or tucked away in her room with toys--her location changed often, but "quiet" with my kids is usually not anything to worry about.

"Usually" is the operative word here. Miss C is definitely of the mischeivous, spunky sort.

My rest time ended when I asked Little B to please see where his sister had gone. In seconds he says, "Um, she's fingerpainting. On the counter."

My confession: I cannot seem to keep my kitchen counters clear. Cannot do it. This is probably one of my weakest spots. The dishes eventually get loaded, the laundry gets washed, the toilets only get so bad, the carpets do feel the stroke of the vacuum from time to time and the clutter that accumulates in my bedroom or on top of the tv either gets moved or dealt with sooner or later. But. The kitchen counters suffer. When I attempt to empty them and make them clear, they magnetize more stuff in less than a day. And there is always at least one corner spot that never gets cleared. I loathe it. But I have not figured out a system for the junk that calls it home. Pictures my kids draw, mail that lacks urgency but needs attention eventually, coupons I keep swearing off (typically for restaurants), piles and piles of this nonsense and other stuff. (May it stand on record that I am not solely responsible for the mess; I find toys and tools and other miscellaneous things that my dear family leaves by the wayside as well.)

So, my goal this week (well, over the weekend and into next week; I have to be realistic) needs to be clean counters. REALLY cleared off. My daughter is into things up there with her reaching and climbing. Gaining more counter space when we moved last year did NOT make my problem better. It grew. I need help.

Back to my daughter. My son had dressed her in her pretty pink dress earlier in the day (he has a thing for changing her clothes and leaving the various selections on the floor). She was using red finger paint. It says washable, but I have not finished that load of laundry, so I don't know if they're telling the truth yet. I am so very thankful he warned me that she was using fingerpaint because she chose the red tube. And she was very happily smearing it all over the counter, having glopped it onto various papers nearby as well as the dress, the chair, and the floor. Had she been crying, I'd have thought she was bleeding profusely and panicked. Instead, she gleefully squeezed out the last of it before I could get the tube away; actually, I had assumed it was already empty. I left her there while I moved papers, threw away the unsalvagable items, and wiped the areas nearby. I then proceeded to strip her down and carry her to the tub where Little B had made a bubble bath--with excessive amounts of bubbles, which thrilled her. While he watched over her safety, I finished cleaning up so she could not re-indulge once out of her bath. I must admit, though, I think that counter area would make a wonderful finger-painting surface that I would be able to wash rather than hang to dry. . .