I can't avoid it any longer. The kitchen counters are in serious need of decluttering, and the pantry and the fridge need to be culled. Because I'm determined not to let my children skate through their youth thinking they get a free pass with the housework, I request their assistance quite frequently. Getting them to cooperate, though, is usually more trouble than it sometimes feels worth. For every one thing they seem to clean or put away, three other things revert back to a state of entropy. Plus, there's the battle that almost always ensues between myself and one or both of the girls. And I'm too tired to continue engaging over even the smallest things (please throw away your granola bar wrappers). Battle fatigue has set in with no chance of immediate reprieve. So when I get a child to cooperate, I'm happy. When they take the initiative to go above and beyond, I'm pleasantly confounded and extremely grateful.
This morning I tasked her with clearing off the kitchen counter. I was putting away pantry things and left out dishes, she was supposed to throw away the banana peels and wipe the chocolate syrup off the counter. But then she decided she wanted to be a super duper helper today, and put away her toys that were in the kitchen, then help me wipe down the breakfast bar. Wow!
As we were spraying and wiping she said to me, "helping each other is a really good thing, isn't it, mommy?"
To which, of course I replied, "indeed it is, Fi." And then she said, "Homies helping homies. That's how it should be, huh?" I laughed, and once again agreed. "Absolutely."
As I feed Gwennie (and work on this blog post waiting to see if she's finished or not), Sofia continues amaze me in the kitchen. She's put stuff away in the pantry, swept and is currently rockin' the wetjet on the kitchen floor. All of her own volition.
I love it when my homies come to my aid. And I love it even more when those homies call me "mom".