The kids and I are in Atlanta visiting my parents this week. So far, much fun is being had by all, and I have a bunch of posts about our trip stacked up.
My parents live in a fairly large (especially compared to our house) home that is filled with interesting artwork and photographs, oriental rugs I'd be willing to kill for, and family heirlooms and antiques. It is also a very comfortable house with big squishy sofas to relax in. Even though I've never lived here, it does feel like home.
And my children are doing their best to reduce it to rubble. Within 12 hours of their arrival, the kids had scattered toys in pretty much every room of the house.
The girls dragged the big bin of Legos up from the basement and emptied it in the entryway, right in front of the door, guaranteeing that anyone entering the house would skid out on the infernal little blocks. After a day of having everyone trip, I made the girls move their Lego village to the living room, where it grows by the day, when Campbell isn't playing Godzilla and crushing all the houses while laughing maniacally.
The dining room has been taken over by Campbell's new race track and cars, and the kitchen has one of those big foam hopscotch sets across it. The breakfast room is littered with Elizabeth's toys, because she noodles around on the floor while we all sit at the table to eat.
The family room has turned into Campbell's personal gymnasium, and despite my best efforts, he leaps from sofa to chair to sofa to ottoman. We had near disaster the other day when he went crashing through the tea party for 6 that Lily had set up on the floor for her and her dolls.
Even though I've restricted the kids to the kitchen for snacks and meals, they are still managing to spread cheerios and pretzels and crumbs all over the place. I chase them around several times a day, vacuuming in their wake. (And by the way, I want to marry my mom's vacuum. Sorry B.)
Campbell is wrecking his own special brand of havoc on the house. The other night he was playing up in the TV room while watching "Bob Pants," when I heard a crash and then him wailing in terror. He'd somehow managed to knock a huge, heavy piece of framed artwork off of one of its nails, sending it crashing into a neighboring wall. Fortunately, Campbell wasn't hurt and the glass didn't break. And the ding I though Campbell had put in the wall had already been there. When I asked Campbell what had happened, he said "It fell!" And when I asked him what had made the frame fall, he wailed, "MEEEEEEE!" He's given that corner of the room wide berth since then.
Last night my mom said that she couldn't figure out how the loveseat in the family room kept moving out of its proper place. Almost as if on cue, Campbell came running across the room and dove head-first into the loveseat, shoving it a good six inches backwards and answering my mom's question.
My parents built this house 20 years ago, but it may not survive until the end of the week.