Maybe I Should Just Let Them Watch TV

In the past few weeks, Lydia (5) and Nolan (2) have become great playmates. Yes, they still fight some, but it has been a lot less than normal. Lydia will teach Nolan during school. It is so cute. "Nolan, this is the letter b, it says 'b,'" she says. It warms my heart.

They play all kinds of games together. They have named them; sweeties, honeys, Star Wars, mom & dad, and bad guys to mention a few. I love to watch them playing together, and to see their vivid imaginations. It surprises me, how much pretend Nolan is able to do, but I suppose that is just a by product of watching two older siblings.

It is wonderful, except for two things. No matter what they call the game they are playing, every game seems to involve either running between the kitchen and living room, or taking every single toy from one place to another. (sometimes both!) Usually, the toys are coming from bedrooms, and being put under the dining room table. The table is the fort, the house, the space ship or car depending on the game.

It's not so much that I mind toys under the table, but I do mind that when they are done playing, the toys are still under the table. I do mind that although they were able to move all the toys to the table, they believe they are physically incapable of moving toys back where they belong.

Add to this picture, that while they are moving all their earthly possessions under the table, Vivian (almost one) is pulling everything out of any drawer, cupboard, bag or box she can get her hands on. While I am at the computer, she pulls everything out of the diaper bag. While I'm brushing my teeth, she pulls out all the washcloths from the drawer. It looks like the whole house has exploded most days.

Obviously, Vivian is not going to clean up after herself, but Lydia, certainly, and Nolan, to a point, should be able to put toys back where they belong. It is such a battle, but it is one of those battles you know you have to fight. It would be faster just to do it myself, but I firmly believe they need to learn to clean up the messes they make.

This leads me to think. . . they don't make messes when they watch T.V. They don't run through the house either. They sit there in a zombie like stare at the screen. Hmmm. . . maybe. . . Should I trade messy, creative play, and the battle that comes after, for neat, zoned out in front of the T.V. kids? Very tempting, but I think I'll pass.