You know, I thought I had this vacuum problem licked. Matthew had been terrified of it for so long, about a month or two ago I thought I had a breakthrough when he actually just ran away from it one day rather than turning himself inside-out with hysterics like he usually did. Since that supposed "break-through", things have been fair, at best. He still runs - either to me, or away from me, usually crying as I try to vacuum. And mostly, I just try to avoid vacuuming altogether unless Mark is home and can take the kids downstairs to play. Maybe that's the wrong approach - maybe I should just get the thing out everyday and then he'll just get used to it that way. Hmmmm, might have to think that one over. But who wants to vacuum everyday? (Not that my house couldn't use a good vacuuming most days, but I digress.)
So why the blog about the vacuum today? Well, today I decided to get some serious cleaning done and am tackling Jonathan's room. I have two "helpers" of course, who are probably spreading around more dust than I care to think about. But anyhow, I pulled out the vacuum, and went ahead and turned it on....bad move. Matthew comes streaking over to me from wherever he was, trips, falls over the cylinder, lands with a splat and bit his tongue - blood everywhere, screaming, crying. Can you say SETBACK? At this rate, I think he'll be 18 before I get this house clean.
But not all is lost. Jonathan felt so sorry for Matthew, he ran to the toys, picked out one of his OWN favorites - his Thomas Train Whistle - gave it to me and said "Give this to Matthew, it'll make him feel better". Wow. This is the kid who ranks "sharing" right up there with "root canal" or eating cold brussels sprouts. Way to go, Jonathan - I think you made my day! And BTW, it DID make Matthew feel better. Back to the trenches....AFTER Matthew goes down for his nap!