Thursday, May 11, 2006

Treasure to Trash

Dear Zen Mother,

I just can't keep up with the paperwork flood that flows home from school...I'm drowning here! The homework desk is perpetually piled with proof that my kids are keeping Crayola’s stock thriving and there are a hundred and one ways to use noodles, yarn and glue. You have three kids. What do you do with the paper they produce?

Ellen in Southampton



Dear Ellen,

For many years I tortured myself with the notion that in order to beat Martha Stewart for the Mother of the Year award I needed to adopt Smithsonian standards for archiving my children’s artwork. But then Martha was incarcerated and my sister told me Mother of the Year was beyond my reach anyway (who knew ketchup didn’t count as a vegetable?).

By the time my third child was coming up to me with his latest squiggly interpretation of a spaceship, wide eyed and full of love, I would say “That’s nice, honey,” while dropping the picture into the shredder without lifting my eyes from a magazine – Oh, please! I’m kidding! I would never use a shredder without looking.

The seven steps to a clutter-free home didn’t come easy but here’s the path I took.

Step 1: Take the child’s artwork from his hand. Tell him it is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen and you will save it forever. Ask him to bring you the box of tissues and explain the concept of “happy tears” as you burst into sobs over the thought of one more cotton ball sheep living in your den.

Step 2: Let your child know that every time she throws a piece of artwork away, she’ll be able to create a new picture with the same soul. See how she looks at you in utter disbelief. Purchase frame for the macaroni American Flag she brought home today.

Step 3: Get caught putting all the artwork in the recycling bin when your child wakes up at 2:00 a.m. for a glass of water. Explain the woodland elves want all the paper back so they can create more trees in the forest. Go to bed feeling like the Grinch getting nabbed by Cindy Loo Hoo.

Step 4: Follow the Kindergarten teacher home from school, trip her from behind and push her face into the dirt.

Step 5: Explain to your children that if we do not recycle their artwork, Voldemort will return to power.

Step 6: Casually toss all artwork over the fence into the neighbor’s yard where a bulldog that answers to the name Shrapnel “takes care of things.”

Step 7: Throw everything away and tell your kids Daddy did it.

Save the stick figure family portrait, the handprint turkey and the school photo Christmas ornament; Save the Popsicle stick house, the pressed flower bookmark and the clay Valentine necklace. Pull these items out every Mother’s Day and explain to your children the concept of happy tears as you sob uncontrollably over not saving every scrap of paper your children ever gave you.

Sunday, May 07, 2006

A Mail Perspective

My dearest wife,

After a rather long flight, I’ve arrived safely at my hotel and have registered for the conference. As much as I’m looking forward to seeing old colleagues and learning the newest advancements in medical procedures, I miss you and the kids immensely. When you have a moment, send me an email and let me know how everyone is doing.

Your loving husband

My loving husband,

How nice to hear from you. I’m sure the flight from Boston to Palm Beach was tedious. Who can sit for three hours merely reading or playing cards? Not me! If I’m not stopping a child from scratching FART FACE into our Mahogany dining room table while picking dog food out of the piano, well, then I’m just not happy. I do hope you survived the monotony.

Your dearest wife

***

My dearest wife,

The conference is moving along at a snail’s pace. I can’t wait to come home. Please tell the children I love them and that the expression now residing in our dining room table is unacceptable language.

Your loving husband

My loving husband,

I am disheartened to hear the conference is moving so slowly. Perhaps things would speed up if the attendees got off the golf course? But that’s just a suggestion. I’m no doctor! Thanks for the parental advice regarding said expression. Will hand child a Thesaurus the next time he picks up a carving knife.

Your dearest wife

***

My dearest wife,

I’m sensing an edge to your emails. Perhaps a five-day conference is too long for me to be away. It’s awfully hot here anyway. I’ll make arrangements to return home earlier than planned.

Your loving husband

My loving husband,

Please do not interrupt your glorified tanning session on my account. There’s no need to rush home, partly because we no longer have one. The children took great pleasure in igniting Sparky, our Bichon Frise, to see if the pooch could live up to his name (he did). In our zeal to race Sparky to the sink, we failed to extinguish the sparks creeping up the living room curtains. Well, before you could say, “My good-for-nothing husband is spending the week in Palm Beach” the entire house was engulfed in flames. Talk about your warm temperatures! Please direct all further emails to the shelter at Lexington and Broad.

Your dearest wife

***

My dearest wife,

I am indebted to your quick thinking in times of an emergency. Thank goodness our family is safe. Did you happen to grab my green cashmere sweater on the way out?

Your loving husband

My loving husband,

Was not able to escape with three children, two dogs and one green cashmere sweater – something had to be left behind. Went back to see if I could find it in the rubble. Only discovered a VHS tape of you in bed with our neighbor Mary. Remind me to tell her she needs to spend more time on the treadmill. Please direct all future correspondence to our attorney who still hasn’t forgiven you for the bad investment tip you gave him at last year’s Christmas party.

Your dearest and most adaptable wife