Okay, so if we ever meet in the future and I’ve completely lost my mind, caught in some weird loop, only communicating by way of sad Carly Rae Jepsen lyrics, you’ll know. And I’m telling you now, you’ll know what to blame…The repetitive bouncing of balls on hardwood floors.
Because this is my life.
And this is where I live.
And I’m losing it, people.
Honestly, it seems like no big deal. But bounce, after bounce, after bounce, after bounce, repeat 500 times, and when does school start again?
So as phase II in the week-long clean up means GET THESE BALLS OUT OF THE HOUSE!
Now that we’ve moved from downtown big town to 20 miles outside of college town, we have a back yard and an option to put the balls outside. And oh my gosh if there were ever a reason to move out of town, this is it. But if you’re not there yet, and believe me I get it, this ball bin mind-salvation plan still works to get the balls contained indoors.
It’s such a simple change. And so easy to do. And so much better.
You may have thought of this a million years ago, and I’m not sure why I didn’t, but I didn’t. However now, balls big and small are banned to the outside land, as God intended it. Their bins are basically organized and clear so he can easily see them (soccer balls in one; footballs and basketballs in another; and helmets, gloves, and random other sports things in the third), they’re outside (where the boy should be playing with these things) and they’re at his height level for his easy procurement (because seriously, I want little to nothing to do with them for at least a week).
I’m really hoping this saves my sanity. Because at day 65 (of 101) between kindergarten and first grade, I need all the help I can get.