Mr. Gore took the big kids “on a date” yesterday afternoon (i.e. lunch and grocery shopping), and while Shep took his long, afternoon nap, my mom and I were going to attempt Day 2 of spring cleaning by tackling my master bedroom.
That only left one person with nothin’ much to do.
She had been such a trooper by staying behind, and her unspoiled nature was gloriously on display after her siblings departed.
“We’re having a ‘HOME date’!” she giggled to me and her grandmother as we sat around the table eating tacos. Excited by her day as an only child, she was chattering a hundred words a minute, and it was so fun to just look at her and delight in who she is.
“I should buy her something,” I thought to myself, wanting to reward her for being a good sport and making the best out a day that might seem kind of lame to other kids.
But then the wiser voice within me spoke up: “Why would you do that? Are you crazy??”
Truly. What better way to spoil an unspoiled child than to buy her toys every time she acts unspoiled? Silly me.
So I just smiled at her instead and gazed into her eyes, even as my heart longed to shower her with blessings.
And that’s why I’m so very thankful that a perfect reward presented itself about thirty minutes later.
I was unloading a box that had been sitting in my room since Christmas, preparing to break it down and send it out the door, when that wise voice piped up again.
“What are you throwing that away for, you big dumb-dumb?”
Betsie, meet box.
The two were inseparable for the rest of the afternoon.
Now, any of you who keep up with us on Facebook know that this beloved 3rd child of mine, though brilliant in many regards, can be a bit of a dingaling. I shared the following story on Facebook yesterday:
It was just Betsie this afternoon, so I hauled out a big cardboard box to keep her busy while I worked on my bedroom.
Her goal was to design a very beautiful house, so before I left her to it with a bucket of markers, glue and construction paper, I got a big, sharp knife and sawed some windows on the side.
“Now stay WAY back, Bets,” I warned her. “This knife is very dangerous.”
“Okay,” she said, agreeably, “I’ll just get inside the box.”
Sigh. I love that girl. We call her “Oh, honey” (from “How I Met Your Mother”) in her ditzier moments, which is approximately 2.5 times a day.
Anyhow, after the windows were finished, I moved on to my work and left her to hers, occasionally checking in and snapping a few photos.
I had to laugh when I noticed that she was busy working in her default Smeagol position.
Betsie has crouched like Smeagol from “Lord of the Rings” since she was just a tiny thing. One day, I had her in the walk-in shower while I cleaned the bathroom, and I looked over to see her crouching and trying to pick up a bar of soap.
She looked over her shoulder at me, and with her wet hair plastered down on her head and her giant eyes gleaming seriously at me, she sort of looked exactly like this…
Moving on, can I just say that, while I ADORE having a big family, there is something really special about having some one-on-one time with each of your children?
These sorts of simple activities like making houses out of boxes COMPLETELY frazzle me when we’re all home together – maybe because there are four people asking me for things at one time while I’m trying to divvy up markers and supplies!!! – thus, I was kind of blown away by how EASY it was to enjoy this sort of homemade fun with just one of my stinkers.
It reminded me that I can be FUN and spontaneous, even on spring cleaning days.
So long as half of our kids are out of the house and one is asleep.
Tisn’t a Pinterest-worthy box, but…
it’s OUR box.
And we love it.
That’s chocolate ice cream on her face. Life is good.
By the way, Betsie’s my favorite poser in the family.
That girl is cray.
When it came to her house-box, her very favorite part was the “welcome” mat I drew for her.
“A RUG???!!!!” she squealed when I finished.
I want to be like Betsie when I grow up.
The window and curtains (decorated by Betsie) were a big hit, too.
After she colored them in, she gave her box a kiss.
I think this ragamuffin has finally found a home.
She wants to live her forever.
And sleep here.
And eat popcorn here whilst watching “Sleeping Beauty”.
Turns out, she was also very territorial of her box. (Being an only child for the day will do that to ya).
About an hour into box-time, she asked me to add a few words (sentences) to her “welcome” mat.
“Don’t come in. In a minute, Betsie’s going to go to sleep.”
Not very welcoming.
But when Sheppy woke up from his nap and backed in to her box until he kerplunked right down in her lap, she didn’t kick him out.
So maybe she’s hospitable, after all.
The moral of this story is: we KNOW the best things in life are free, and we KNOW that boxes make the best toys, but sometimes we forget.
It’s good to be reminded.