I've created something that I'm sure will traumatize my children for years to come. I can see in 30 years we are together for Christmas and the fire is blazing. We are sitting around talking about the kids childhood when one of them says, "Remember that hideous gray and pink Gobble Bag that Mom made!" At which an uproar of laughter will follow. I will blush. And the stories will flow of how their favorite toys got eaten by the gobble monster.
OK so I've been threatening my daughter with it for probably a month. When Addison and Riley were here I used it as an empty threat to get them to clean up. Addison cried that night. And I didn't figure out until the next morning that it was because he was afraid that the Gobble Bag was going to go to his house and eat his parents stuff. So after much explaining, Chickie knew that I was first going to have to make the bag. At this point it was practically an out right challenge from her to me....as if she was saying,"Oh, yeah. You want me to pick up my toys. Well, you are just going to have to make this so called Gobble Bag. I don't believe you are MOM enough to go through with it." So, Monday night, after she was in bed and the house was littered with piles of what she had done that day ( Which was a lot. She made paper hair bows, a necklace, and played a lot of games with different groups of toys. ) I got to work on the bag. It had to be huge enough to hold a LOT of toys. And it had to be friendly enough to not give my children nightmares. So her reaction in the morning when her precious toys were in the bag, including beloved Sweetie, her "breathing" dog, "I want to make one!" That's what she said. And I had been worried about her having nightmares from it. Hopefully it works. I don't want her to lay awake at night wondering that she got every single toy put away....but I also don't want to have to remind her 50 times throughout the day to pick up her stuff. I would like her to remember to put things away as she goes
throughout the day. I am married to a neat freak. And for my own sanity (and his) I don't want to be the only person cleaning.
Today I'm thankful for the smell of a new magazine. ...paper and perfume, gotta love it!