(Image courtesy George Eastman House, Rochester NY)*
Dear Children,
Welcome to your New Home!
Yes, I know our house is not technically new anymore. I know we will have been here 2 years in May, but I feel, perhaps, we should start anew... I would like to give you the grand tour.
We'll enter through the garage into the mudroom where you'll step onto the mat -- not the white tile. (I am still questioning the brilliance of using slippery white tile as mudroom flooring but, whatever, we do not have the funds to rip it out at the moment.) You will kindly remove your muddy shoes that have already dirtied the tile that I have either just vacuumed or the Cleaning Fairies have just mopped. And even though the wallpaper needs to come down, you will remove your shoes carefully and not fling them against the wall. Now turn around, and you will see hooks for your coats. The newly dirty white floor is not your coat rack. Please be advised and repeat this after me. Also, any dirty gym clothes can get tossed into the laundry room which is right off the mudroom.
The newly painted light blue room you'll enter first is the family room. You are free to use it and enjoy it with us. The armoire on the far wall has some of your games and toys. You may play these quietly. You must put them back when you are done. You may also watch TV quietly in here. If you are so overwhelmed with the desire to act like barbarians you may excuse yourselves and go to the beige and maroon mess above the garage called the play room. Behave as you will up there. Just close the door behind you so that I do not have to hear you. And no crying to me unless someone is actually bleeding.
Through the family room is a small hallway. Off the hallway is a bathroom and a kitchen. The bathroom gets used by everyone. So please lift the seat, flush the toilet and put the seat down again when you are done. After you wash your hands please dry them on the towel. Return towel to its original position. And the little white thing by the door, to the left of the sink is called a light switch. Please push it down when you leave the premises.
The newly painted green room is the kitchen. I expect appropriate behavior in there. Not tag. Not a game of "You can't catch me!" either. Over by the window is a table and around it are chairs. The table is where you eat. You may also do homework there. Or draw or color or do arts and crafts. The chairs are for your derrieres while you eat, and draw and paint and craft. Sit facing over the table so that crumbs do not fall to the floor. The small drawer closest to you is where I keep the napkins. They are for wiping your mouths and grubby paws. Please note that they are here.
To the right of the table along the far wall is the sink with water that runs. It will clean your plates for you. And to the left of it is the dishwasher. The plate won't hop in by itself. You have to open it. It's quite easy. Really.
The refrigerator is on the other side of the island, directly across from the sink. It's huge and fancy and sucks a ton of energy. Every time you open the door costs me like ten dollars. Make that a hundred dollars every time you stand in front of it for hours on end deciding what to eat, thus causing the thermostat in both the living room and family room to turn on. You know what we have to eat. It's not going to change. I'm not suddenly going to lose my mind and fill the house with tons of junk and good stuff. The yogurts and apples and cheese sticks will make you strong. Do you know there are starving children in African who would kill for this stuff?
The blue and white room through the door to the left of the sink and dishwasher is the dining room. It is strictly off limits unless you are with a parent. This beige room is the living room. It is also strictly off limits. Yes, you can play the piano with permission.
Now you will end up in the front entryway, or the foyer. The spiral staircase is for going up and down. It is not a playground or a jungle gym. Nor is it for standing on top of and dropping toys down that will permanently injure your parents. We walk on the stairs. With gentle and light footsteps. And not like elephants and rhinoceroses. The stampeding must stop now. At the top of the stairs and to the left is Christopher's room. And Rebecca's room. Clothes go behind those white doors. They are called closets. They open and close. The operative word being, close. Clothes go in closets. Or in your dressers. Your floors are not closets and I am telling you this so that you don't make the mistake again. Over there are your beds. They are for sleeping on. They are not storage bins.
Down the hall is Alexander's room. Alexander has the same rules regarding his closet. Next to Alexander is the children's bathroom. There are two sinks, please be considerate when you use them. Toothpaste belongs on your brush, in your mouth and on your teeth. Not all over the counter, floor, mirrors and towels. Dixie cups are for rinsing your mouth. Contrary to whomever mis-informed you in the first place, they are not science beakers. I do not like to find your little science experiments. MIT is a better place for that. Or Stanford... anyplace far far away from my house. Under the window is a towel rack. It is where towels hang to dry. Next to the window you will find another toilet. Lift the seat and place it down when you are done. Because I use it in the middle of the night sometimes. Because even though I have my own bathroom yours is closer to my bed. And I am old and sometimes I can no longer make it all night without emptying my bladder. You three have ruined me of that. So blame yourselves. And falling in your toilet in the middle of the night is gross. And don't forget to flush.
At the end of the hallway is my room and unless you are invited by me or Daddy, keep out. You can sit with me on my bed to watch television, or to talk or without me with special permission. But you must sit on the bed calmly. My bed is not a trampoline. Nor is it a racetrack. If you must bring all your cars onto my bed please remove them when done. I do not like rolling over onto cold, sharp metal objects in the middle of the night. This goes for all your toys, in fact. Nor is my bed a launch pad. I do not want to have an encounter like I did the other night when I woke to Buzz Lightyear shaking ferociously, shouting "To infinity and beyond!" Thankfully Daddy had fallen asleep on the couch. I'm not sure what he would have done had he heard it!
Finally my sweet, dear children, we have 4,500 square feet of living space. You do not have to be within 2 feet of me all the time!
I love you, now scram!
Love,
Mommy XOXO
* I stumbled across this photo in a search for a picture of a house to use for this piece. Upon closer look I noticed that it was the George Eastman (Eastman Kodak) House in Rochester, NY. What a coincidence! La Jolie Grandmere grew up right next door to Mister Eastman!