I usually make the kids play with their Legos upstairs in their bedrooms, not because I'm a neat-freak, but because HOLY HOT DAYUM does it hurt when you step on one of those little suckers. The smaller the piece, the sharper the pain. Also, I just can't deal with the random stray piece that gets embedded in the carpet and is discovered when I hear it clunk up the vacuum cleaner.
The boring, cold, rainy days of late made me re-think my whole anti-Lego-in-the-family-room stance. And because I'm a nice mommy. Or at least I like to have my moments when I think I am. So I actually suggested to the boys that they bring the Legos downstairs and play and build with abandon. The kids loved it because they had much more space than usual to spread out.
And spread out they did.
Is it really necessary to dump the entire bucket just to find that one green, four-pronged rectangular piece? Apparently it is. Besides, only the mean moms say, "No dumping Legos!"
Which, by the way, I frequently say.
This is only two buckets of Lego. Imagine if it was the other three buckets that we own as well.
But everyone was so tired last night, including myself, that it never got cleaned up. Mostly I was just way too mentally and physically exhausted to nag them to clean it up.
And we all know that threatening and nagging when all parties involved are tired and cranky is just foolish. Things are said that are later regretted, tantrums are thrown, and next thing you know, you have 3 boys who are grounded for a month from TV, video games and playing outside.
And them without anything to do makes me feel like I'm the one who was grounded.
Like I say, I pick my battles.
I was going to wait until they got home from school today to make them clean it up, but I just couldn't tiptoe over these miniature landmines any longer.
I caved and did it myself.
They totally owe me one.