Clubhouse

"Old Macdonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O!"

Ollie is awake from his nap and the house isn't any cleaner than when I put him down. I just couldn't get up from my chair. Come on, Chelsea, this is your job. How hard is it to pick up the house and vacuum within the couple of hours Ollie is sleeping? Never mind the fact that I was doing home improvements the day before.  I will just clean up, while Ollie occupies himself. Oh great, now I am not interacting with him. He had independent play during his nap time. Now he will be behind in kindergarten and will not know how to properly interact with students his own age.*

I go into Ollie's room with his milk.

"BANKET!" Ollie hands me his blanket while I give him his milk in our twice-daily exchange. 

I put his blanket away from arm's reach. Ollie would drag his blanket all over the house if I didn't do that. It's already falling apart. Sleep would not be had if that blanket ever got lost or destroyed.

I change Ollie's diaper, suggest we try the potty, hear a quick no, and suggest Ollie play with his legos in the living room.

I ask if he can build a tall tower and go to wash dishes. Dishwasher unloaded, two plates washed and I feel a tug on my shirt. 

"HOUSE!" 

Ollie takes my hand and we walk over to his "clubhouse." 

Whenever we changed Ollie to a toddler bed, we put all of his toys in the closet so he wouldn't play with them. I think Aaron started calling it the clubhouse and it just stuck. Ollie likes to bring everybody in there, including the dog. He would attempt the cat if he could catch her. 

Ollie pulled all of his toys on the ground. 

     

Catching bubbles

When a two year old is leading you somewhere, you have no other choice but to follow. However guilty I may feel about a dirty house, Ollie is my number one mission. 

I put Sesame Street station on pandora and we sit in his clubhouse. He plays with a Tupperware puzzle and points out the shapes. Our favorite train song comes on and we sing loudly and off-pitch to that. 

I will not think about the house. I hate unfinished projects. I tend to run myself ragged so I could finish something I am working on because somehow my catchphrase became "work first, play later." **

My son is changing me for the better. Making him my priority has forced me to stop and just enjoy, because that is what he does. 

Aaron and I always snicker when we find toys in random places where he has been playing. 

Gosh, I love him. 

*Mom guilt at its finest. I know it's ridiculous, but these aren't too far from the thoughts I've had. 

**Gosh she's a hoot. Invite her to your parties.