A bit about PJ, who would be mortified if she knew I was posting on this topic and even more mortified if she knew I was posting pictures.
PJ for many years was the tidiest of my children, in fact when it came down to the kids bedrooms she used to have the cleanest of the three kids. I thought "This is so great, I don't know how it happened but it seems as if the messy child gene that was so strong within me jumped right passed my children! Yippee!" Indeed I thought of Shannon and her wonderful childhood tidiness, I even thanked Shannon quietly in the back of mind, how blessed I was that my lovely daughter decided to take after her Aunt rather than myself. Then it happened:
I am wondering if PJ was exposed to an environmental toxin of some kind within the past 8 months or so and the recessive Messy gene was exposed to rear it's ugly head. The boys rooms they get a bit untidy but never downright messy. Mind you they don't spend as much time playing in their rooms as PJ does in hers, they are often playing Lego's downstairs. (Crap, now I am thinking they also have the familial Messy gene, they are just better at spreading their messes throughout the house so I don't realize how mess they have!)
I know your laughing Mom as you scroll through the pictures, you are thinking about karma, remembering all the times you went in a mucked out my room while I wept and you mercilessly threw out all my treasures. I understand now your motives and your passion for a tidy space, I hereby publicly apologize for driving you halfway to insanity with my mess. (I would like it on record that I am only responsible for getting you half way there, the rest I think Shannon should take credit for, it's only fair)
Then it happened: I got fed up with looking at the mess, I could not take it anymore. I waited until she was off to school in one morning and I went into her room with a garbage can and a broom. It should be noted for the record that I gave my darling daughter warning and let her know I would clean her room if she choose not to herself, I was kind enough to give her a time line to work within.
I had no mercy, I recycled an entire garbage can full of tiny bits of paper, half finished paintings, cardboard boxes that she just had to have for one project or another, old birthday cards, hidden candy wrappers, flower petals wrapped in Kleenex that were a treasure as far a PJ was concerned. After filling an entire (read huge) recycle bin, I proceeded to fill two large garbage bags full of garbage and took those out to the curb thereby rendering them 'unrecoverable'. I stripped the sheets off the bed, washed them and put them back, tidy, neat and wrinkle free.
When PJ came home from school she was very angry with me, very angry indeed. She asked about her bits of paper, "Mom did you throw away that little yellow note that I was saving?" "Mom where are my American Girl magazines?" She tearfully sat on her bed and said, "Now I have nothing left to play with, my room is practically empty!"
To which I answered, "I know, isn't it lovely?"