These boys and their toys.

I thought about calling this post "Same song, second verse," because once again, my son can push the vacuum cleaner before he can actually walk. The day before our big move, Elijah was adamant about helping vacuum.


He couldn't quite push it all by himself, but two days later in our new house he was walking back and forth and immensely proud of himself.


Now he runs. And looks behind him while he's running. No matter how many times I tell my kids the story of how I got stitches and a scar on my forehead, they all still look back.

And did I mention that he also unloads the dishwasher? That is, when it's working, which it is currently not.

Working with Grandpa

Grandpa found this old wagon and kept it for a project with the (great) grandkids.

Grandpa demonstrates the general idea.

Ellen and Jack, covered in Grandpa's old shirts courtesy of Grandma, take turns helping Grandpa paint.

Jack Jack is pretty happy with the result. I'm thinking it's a good thing we don't own any spray paint at our house.

Get to work and earn your keep.

Little did we know, Rose has been taking it all in for the past 13 months. And I do mean all of it. I wouldn't be surprised to find her on top of the refrigerator looking around in the cupboards.

She has lately learned that she fits in between the wall and the dryer, and in an attempt to keep her from disconnecting the dryer tube and the outside vent, we agreed on a different sort of helping.

Whoops. Dropped something. My arms are shorter than I thought.

Did you say colors on cold and whites on hot, Mom? Or was it the other way around?

This post is brought to you by the family business.

And now, a word from our sponsors. . .

Before my brother-in-law introduced me to Magic Erasers, cleaning the bathroom was my least favorite chore. My bathtub went from pitiful neglect to sparking shine. And it's true, Magic Erasers take permanent marker off of almost any surface, and are simple enough for my two-year-old and four-year-old to use. When I don't know what to use, I try a Magic Eraser first. I love you, Magic Erasers.

My favorite childhood science experiment, baking soda and vinegar, have worked wonders on my aluminum kitchen sink. They are especially safe and effective when I'm pregnant and can smell things no other human being can smell. No, I'm not pregnant. I love you, baking soda and vinegar.

I love my vacuum cleaner. I devoted a previous post to it. The vacuum cleaner has not been assigned a gender or a name, but our relationship may warrant that soon. I love you, vacuum cleaner.

I do not love cleaning, but I love a clean house. I love things that make cleaning fun. I love things that make cleaning fun for my kids.

*Mr. Clean, Arm&Hammer, Heinz, and Kenmore did not sponsor this post. They have no idea I exist.

This is the way we clean our room.

In preparation for a visit this past weekend from my sister, Ellen, Jack, and I were picking up and vacuuming. After I had finished Ellen's room, she says, "Mom, are you going to vacuum my closet?" I say, "No, I'm all done with your room." A few minutes later I hear, "Mom! Mom! I'm ready for you to vacuum my closet!" Apparently she thought I wasn't being thorough enough.

Here's Ellen's idea of cleaning up the closet:

her room:

her bed:

Oh. That's where everything went.

Spring cleaning, a little early

As of today, I have seven days until my due date for baby #3. We're planning on a post-date baby since that's how Ellen and Jack arrived, so I think I really have a few more days to get ready. But a couple of days ago I realized that my two-child existence is almost over.

Relatively speaking,
I know how to go shopping with two children.
I know how to prepare meals with two children.
I know how to get two children in and out of the house, and in and out of the car.
I know how to get two children ready for church by 8:00 am.
I know how to put two children to bed.
I know how to clean house with two children.

I am really, really grateful that we live in a small apartment with disproportionately large closets in every room. I am really, really grateful that we don't really have that much junk lying around or hidden in the big closets.

For the past several weeks and probably months, I've been taking in the state of the closets and cupboards in our apartment. Two weeks ago I started with Ellen's closet and went through baby clothes. The process of sorting, selecting, re-storing, washing, and putting away new baby's clothes took several days, but both Ellen and Jack now have organized closet shelves, and our baby won't have to go naked when we bring her home.

Last week I took a break, so on Monday I started in on the hall pantry/food storage/school supply/emergency/miscellaneous closet. It wasn't as bad as I thought. I moved on to under my bathroom sink and then the hall coat/stroller/game closet.

I also decided it would be a good day to wash every article of dirty clothing since Jack Jack had no clean pants to wear. In the process I realized something had disconnected behind the dryer because it was venting hot air into my living room instead of outside like it's supposed to. So I pulled out the dryer because I don't have enough racks and chairs to hang wet clothes to dry on. I was able to reconnect the tube, but it was so dusty behind the dryer that I went ahead and cleaned up while I was back there. Then I felt like sweeping and mopping all the linoleum surfaces.

By now I was getting tired and feeling like a character in a book: If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.

After dinner and the kids were bathed and in bed, I folded the mountain of newly clean clothes. When I went to put my own clothes away, I finally had to come to terms with the disastrous state of my own closet. On Tuesday. . .

I think this is what they call nesting.

The family business: branching out

I really, really, really dislike cleaning bathrooms. However, I do love seeing (and smelling) them clean and sparkly when the work is all done.

Ellen recently discovered that scrubbing toilets is almost as much fun as going to the Science Spectrum. She'd love to scrub their toilets, too, if they'd let her.

Dish washer

About three weeks ago I suddenly noticed that our dishwasher smelled like burning rubber. So did the rest of our apartment for two days. I put in a work order and a week later maintenance showed up to check out the situation. Turns out we needed a part to replace whatever rubber piece melted during the heat dry cycle, and the part had to be ordered, of course. Several days later maintenance came back to get the part number. They thought the part would be here by Monday, as in three days ago.

I have learned a few things in three weeks of hand washing dishes:

1) I've been using a dishwasher for so long that it's hard to go back to hand washing, especially since I'm responsible for four times as many dishes now.

2) Once I actually get around to washing the dirty dishes, it doesn't really take that long.

3) Washing the dishes with tropical blossom scented dish soap makes my kitchen smell good.

4) Ellen likes to stand on a stool next to me and "rinse" the dishes.

4a) Ellen doesn't go looking for things to get into when she can play with water and bubbles right next to me.

4b) Ellen can rinse one plastic cup in the time it takes me to wash a whole sink full of dishes.

5) Jack Jack can't wait for the day when he gets tall enough and coordinated enough to assume rinsing responsibilities.

6) I'm actually getting used to washing dishes and it can be quite therapeutic (she says as the dishes washed two days ago are still drying on the counter and the dirty dishes are still "soaking" and piling up in the sink).

Joining the family business

Ellen set the bar pretty high when she started showing a proficiency for certain household tasks at the tender age of 16 months.

I was surprised, but glad to let her try out some of the responsibilities of running the family business. I mean, isn't a major rationale for having children knowing that the day will come that I never have to take the trash out again?

Just kidding. I do believe that doing chores is an important part of growing up, but it's not like I expect our two-year-old to check off squares on a job chart.


Note the front-loading washer and dryer with controls also conveniently located on the front. At toddler height. The start button is a diamond (again, convenient) to differentiate it from the other circular buttons. On several occasions, Jack has started the washer and dryer without my asking him to. So considerate. I really hope that trait carries over into the teenage years.



Jack also loves starting the dishwasher. There's nothing like the sound of every appliance in the house running.

Now, vacuuming is basically my favorite chore of all. I love my equipment. I love the way the attachments work. I love that I can do corners and edges without a lot of hassle, and I love the sound of clicking and whooshing up the metal wand as my floors become clean.

Ellen has only recently shown any interest at all in vacuuming. She used to be scared of the vacuum cleaner, and usually she still likes to sit safely on the couch and leave the dirty work to me. Jack, on the other hand, chases the vacuum around while I'm working. Today he got very, very excited to see the vacuum in action. He wanted to try it out himself.

He also had a temper tantrum like I never would have expected from this normally mild-mannered boy when I told him it was Ellen's turn. She didn't want her baby brother showing her up, so she took great interest in vacuuming.

For a 14-month-old (today!!) child who doesn't walk on his own, I'd say he is a mighty fine vacuum cleaner operator. This act alone has pretty much secured him a permanent spot in the family business.