Not that I really wanted to have to do it.  But I had said that's what I would do if they kept leaving them in the middle of the floor and they did. So I HAD to do it.   I left them there.  And there they'd stay until they were noticed by the owner and properly hung up in the closet. I was mad.  Should I feel guilty for the pleasure I felt by slamming them into the trash?  Probably. It was bad.

Maggie noticed hers as soon as she came down the stairs, probably because it was on top - the least disgusting place because she had the fewest offenses. As she walked over to the trash, she started to say "Why is my backpack....?" Then she stopped mid-sentence and quietly took it out and hung it up. Lesson learned? I don't know.  We'll see what happens tomorrow.  Ty's was in the bottom. The way down deep BOTTOM.  And at the moment it didn't feel like I could get it deep enough.  Neither Ty or Claire had noticed their backpacks by the time we had to leave for baseball.  I called Reas, who hadn't come home yet and told him whatever he did, do NOT take the backbacks out of the trash!  Specifically, I said, "If you have to dump bacon grease in there and feel like smearing an open peanut butter and jelly sandwish on them, go ahead. Just don't take them out."  Told you I was mad.  He was like, "uhhhhhh. ok."  And probably was reconsidering why he ever thought I'd be a good mother to his children.

We came home and honestly, I can't really remember how or when the other kids noticed their backpacks.  Maggie may have said something to them. I know it's an anticlimatic ending to my story, but I think they got the point.  If anything, they learned that I do what I say I'm going to do.  And that I'm mean sometimes...and maybe overly dramatic when I get worked up, and a little OCD when it comes to keeping order, but I think they already knew all that.  My point is that more and more I'm learning that if repeating the same thing over and over (asking them nicely to put their stuff away) has failed to give me the results I want, then I have to DO something differently (shock them to pieces by throwing their bags away). I'm definitely not saying that this was the best or kindest approach. But it was different, and they responded.  This can be applied to everything.  If we're tired of being late, wake up earlier.  If waking up to a dirty kitchen stresses you out (like it does me), clean it the night before.  If you're kids regularly argue over who's turn it is to play the computer, come up with an entirely new plan.  It sounds so simple, but we're creatures of habit and so we easily get into a rut of reacting or responding the same way to a situation, even when it never works.  And for me, that's when I get tired, frustrated, and sometimes even feel helpless.
So here's my thought for the day: Stop exhausting yourself by doing what you know doesn't work and try something else.

 It's deep, I know.