I think it's absolutely necessary to have some sort of "out" once one has reached the pinnacle of massive overload. Whatever that out becomes, it evolves into the go-to method when things are ready to blow up. Maybe it's just me, but things seem to be on the brink of blowing up often in my house. By blowing up I mean my house becoming a trashed toy heap of destruction. We have a lot of fun in here, but it gets to the ridiculous level within an hour, I think. Yesterday I found silly putty stuck to the dining room wall, and it was shaped into a smiley-face. At least the disaster is happy. Still, enough is enough.
For those who know me well, you realize that I get distracted easily. Especially if what I'm doing is not fun and what catches my eye is insanely enjoyable. For example, I was folding laundry (BLAH), and Gideon found my box of glitter in the crafts trunk. We talked about the poop fairies from awhile ago (I blogged about it, if you want to look back...) and the how the magic dust looked SO similar to that glitter (Crazy! Maybe glitter is just bottled fairy dust, right?). So Gideon explained how great it would be if we could make glitter airplanes. He even went so far as to explain it this way, "When the sun shines on the plane, it SHINES like magic dust!" Buh-bye, laundry. Hello, glitter. Glitter is messy. I'm stating the obvious. We made a mess and no laundry was folded. Let's add to the chore list, shall we? We did. We always do. I say "we" just because it makes the singular "me" feel better. I take the blame, though.
All of this is just to explain myself so that I don't seem like a heartless, heartless human when I finally get to the main gist of this story...introducing our newest family member. You now know of my affinity to PLAYING, and how we play with gusto around here. Playing with gusto always results in a gargantuan mess. The pendulum of tasks then swings back to the CHORE factor of pick-up. My boys help, but I always find myself doing more than they do. They start, and then, SURPRISE! they get distracted. Maybe hereditary traits is really what the world coins as "karma." I'm becoming more and more convinced.
Enter our newest family member. He is not related to us, but he has a major influence in my house. I feel I have to introduce him. He was born out of a lightning strike of desperation. I was picking up a toy mess, asked my boys to help, and they half-heartedly pushed a toy here and a toy there. Finally, I announced: "THAT'S IT! I'M CALLING MR. THIMBLES IF YOU DON'T PICK UP THE PACE!"
"Who is Mr. Thimbles?" Brody asked.
I don't remember exactly what I said at the time, but as time has progressed, more Mr. Thimbles character traits have embellished naturally. Here is the basic overview: Mr. Thimbles lives under our deck. He is a magical elf who has another house of his own under there. He has a bedroom, but his BIGGEST room is his TOY ROOM. His toy room takes up most of the deck and he has rows and rows and rows of shelves to store any kind of toy. He spends his days playing with those toys and laughing. He doesn't need food, just toys. He is as tall as Gideon, but he has a long, white beard (stereotypical elf here). His shirts have hundreds upon hundreds of pockets to collect toys. He only takes toys that are left out, so he appears magically in our house and starts his search for misplaced toys. Maybe this invented character is cruel of me, but he WORKS. I set the timer and say, "MR. THIMBLES WILL BE HERE IN FIVE MINUTES! QUICK! GO!" And you should see the scramble. This magical man may not exist, but there is magic that is made in the desperation to save toys. I have caught Gideon more than once stomping outside to the deck and pounding on the boards shouting things like, "I KNOW you have my car! Give it BACK, Mr. THIMBLES!" and I laugh hysterically. It is just too cute.
(Funny interruption: Gideon was just calling me from his bed. When I got there he said, "I left my red monster truck on the table. Could you please put it in my Monster Truck bag? Mr. Thimbles will get it if you don't." Ahhhhh...it works. Please say this will last and last.)
As far as Gideon's condition is going, he is doing pretty well. No viruses yet (THANK YOU, God) and he is usually pretty happy. He has not gotten sick all weekend up to today, so we are doing well there, too. His legs are getting much weaker, though. He definitely needs me to carry him up and down stairs since his legs "stop working." Also, the Serranos bought Gideon a brand new Lightning McQueen bike. He LOVES it. The only problem is that his legs "stop working" while pedaling, too. So I need to push him around while he's on his bike. He still adores it and feels like such a big kid with such an amazing set of wheels. Our next chemo is Thursday. We are still in the phase when the dosages keep getting more and more potent. Keep him in your prayers for the least amount of sickness as possible. I think Mr. Thimbles will be on vacation from Thursday on until Gideon feels better. I'm not THAT heartless, I promise.
Mr. Thimbles, I am sitting on my couch and looking around at my toyless living room. Thank you, kind sir.