Tuesday, April 20, 2010
As you have noticed, Peter has a definite issue with quantity, tending towards the "too much" end of it. Too much soap for the car wash, too much soap for the washing machine. Actually, as I relayed the story the other day, I received a call from Sara who asked me if I remember the time she was watching, that would be "watching" Peter and he pulled the same stunt. Only she did not know the washing machine was spewing enormous amounts of soapsuds, so Peter took it upon himself to clean up. He did this by gathering every scatter rug in the house...not that I am a big scatter rug person...that belongs to our parents and grandparents, the scatter rug generation, but Peter managed to find the rugs that caught the mud and snow from the winter months, and the bathroom rugs and use these rugs to cover the mounds of soap. A valiant effort which ended in soap and mud soaked rugs along with the remaining scattered soapsuds. After Sara relayed the story, I pondered...did I remember that or was that another incident I just plain blocked from my memory???
So, back to amounts. Never too little, unless you are seeking information from Peter, but always too much. As in his need to wash his clothes. His idea of "helping" is to wash his whole closet...on a daily basis. So, to encourage the dirty and clean concept I purchased various and sundry types of laundry baskets or containers where he could place his dirty clothes. We are now the proud owners of Big Bird Hampers, baskets, bags, large waste baskets..if it was cutsie and could collect dirty laundry, it was on the purchase plan for me. Under close supervision, Peter was watched to demonstrate that he could take off his dirty clothes, place them in his new shiny cute hamper, and put on his pajamas. Dirty here, clean stays in your closet, and you put on the PJ"S. Easy! I really do not know what Peter did not not understand or still will make an attempt to understand as when the opportunity evolves, he will remove as many items from his closet and quietly, yes, so quietly, sneak into my room and throw them down the clothes shoot.
The clothes shoot where pounds of laundry filled it's coffers on a daily basis. I never really knew what actually was clean or dirty, gave up the battle and washed. Washed and washed. Peter's real plan was always to then sneak downstairs and do his own laundry, which of course he was able to implement on a fairly regular basis. Again, a conceptual amount issue. How many clothes can I actually stuff into that machine before it starts to rock and roll. His idea of doing a load correlated to stuffing it full, holding one hand on the clothes to prevent the clothes from falling to the floor, and finalize with a door slam.
The washing activity became such as time consuming task that I needed to hide his clothes. And hiding also became an activity as Peter became the master of finding the hidden or supposedly hidden clothes. I would empty his closets and drawers and only hand out the clothes he would be wearing for the day. This worked for awhile, until the clothes that were hidden were found or I just got tired of climbing into the cedar closet, going under boxes or blankets, to find an outfit for the day. As the seasons changed, my battle to keep the clothes hidden was always replaced with the thought that maybe Peter would not wash this time. He was usually good about this for awhile, and I kept watch for awhile and than the process started again.
To this day, Peter loves a good wash. And if that goal cannot be reached, he is really into warming up his sweatshirt in the dryer. This, I can handle, many dryer runs, but safer, user friendly. It involves less soap and he love the warmth the sweatshirt provides...try it someday! As I did throughout Peter's life, I learned to "pick my battles" and also needed to decide what is really important to pursue, to lose sleepover. When it came right down to it...not much! When it comes to store bought parts, those can always be replaced, so I kept that close to my heart. As long as nothing was broken, as in body parts, no one was hurt....than it could be replaced, and so my sanity remained cohesive...or at least, so I thought!
Posted by dianamom at 6:55 AM