Unfortunately, in the past, I have had a high rate of failure. Even Weston easily recognizes this. I stacked the movies up neatly in the TV cabinet the other day and told him I have a new rule: movies have to be put back when they're done with them, and any movies left out will be thrown away. Here's what he said to that (complete with heavy sigh and rolled eyes): This will be just like all the other new rules; we'll do it for a while and then we'll stop and it will be back to just the way it was before. Well, rats! You can't say much to that, particularly when it's deadly accurate.
But! But! I have been eager to get a handle on the toys, since they comprise at least 8,000% of the messes in our house. I have been uncomfortably reminded of a woman I met at a consignment sale when Weston was little. I was loaded down with toys galore, including a little tool set. She took one look at it and said she would NEVER buy that for her kid because it had too many small pieces and would make a mess in her house. Naturally, I thought she was a cruel and horrid beast, but now I think she is the most brilliant creature to have ever walked the face of the earth. MMMMMmmmm, crow! My favorite!
Lloyd took the boys fishing yesterday, and while they were gone, I took every single toy, ball, gun, game, puzzle, stuffed animal, car, train and Lincoln Log out of the house and put them all in the detached garage, along with the approximately 11,000 pounds of miscellaneous household goods we have stored in there. My plan was to wait for them to come home and start squealing about their missing toys, then I was going to take them out to the garage to 'shop' for one laundry basket full of toys each. Then, when those got old, they could take them back to the garage and swap them for baskets of different ones. It didn't work exactly like that, though.
First of all, they admired the clean room but didn't realize for hours that the toys were gone. Once they noticed, they were a little concerned until I explained the plan. They were totally on board, and Weston didn't even ask to get his basket until the next day. He went out in the morning and came back with a basket mounded high with stuffed animals. They've been happily playing with the stuffed animals ever since, and Shane hasn't even asked to get his toys yet.
Pretty good, right? And I'm not done yet! Next, I'm going to set the garage on fire.