My children hate me....Oh well!

Today my children hate me. Am I hurt, you might ask? Not in the slightest!

Last night I came home to yet another hurricane in our front room, up the stairs, kitchen, and family room (don't even get me started on the bedrooms). Of course I knew how it had been left, so on the 20 minute drive home from my lovely in-laws I prepped the kids (yes, Tim too). I made it quite clear that when we got home there would be allowed a 20 minute pick-up time. They could each go through each room that had been ram sacked and pick up their individual belongings. I was sure to let them know to pick up and put away everything that may be dear to their little hearts. I explained that the repercussion of not doing so would be that anything left on the floor became my property and I would be throwing it away. No amount of jumping up and down, crying,or pleading would stop me. I repeatedly went over this with them. Did I already mention that the drive was TWENTY MINUTES LONG? Surely my point had been made, right? I knew that those busy little bees would just rush right in and gather all of their precious belongings, right? Nope. Not even a one.

At the end of the 20 minute time I walked through each room and picked up items one by one sliding them into the garbage bag. Tim's socks (dirty socks, I must add), Tim's shoes, Spencer's cowboy boots (his most prized cowboy boots), Isaac's pajama bottoms, wii remote controls, more socks, paper, toys, you name it. I chucked it in the bag. As you can imagine the screaming started. Spencer wrapped his arms and legs around me pleading to not throw away his favorite boots. He exclaimed over and over, "Those are my most favorite thing in the whole wide world! How could you do this to me? How could you do this to me?!" All I could do was shake my head. Davis cried. Spencer cried. Tim and Isaac sat silent on the couch. Neither of them was going to give me the satisfaction of letting me know it upset them. Whatever. Didn't matter to me whether they said a word. I finished gathering all of the items and promptly walked out to the big city garbage can, heaved the bag in to it, and let the lid slam. Then ever so kindly as I entered the house I told them all it was time for bed. No matter what the responses I was going to stick to it and I was was going to remain cool and calm. Isaac, being my most stubborn child, walked right up to his room and didn't say a word (I'd like to think it was because he was afraid for his life, but he was probably just trying to tick me off more and there was no way I was going to let him know it was working!), and Spenc and Davis sobbed and sobbed. And do you think it tugged at my heart strings one little bit? No way, no how! That wasn't going to make me break! I sweetly kissed them hood night, explaining that when Mommy says something I mean it, and now they would know that the next time I warn them, they had better choose to listen. Then I promptly went outside and pulled the bag out of the garbage. I'm such a sucker.