My Toy Story
I feel awful about it. I really do. All day long Austin asks me to play with him. So I do...for a few minutes at a time. I just can't figure out what to make my stinkin' army guy say. What in the world? I rotate "Please don't shoot", "Look, I think you've got jaundice", "Can we talk this over?" and "Pow, pow, pow!!!" and then I'm stuck with nothin'. 
I try to think back to my time at home. I could play the heck out of Barbies, school and store. I don't think my parents were playing those things with me. I remember my sister, Lisa, and my cousin, Tara, in my imagination world, but not my parents. Now, don't get me started, don't even get me started (another Molly Shannon reference)...my parents are wonderful!! I am sure they DID play with me when Lisa was still waddling around in full diapers (so, not long ago). Still, none of this matters to Austin. He wants me to play with him and he cares not that there are dishes in the sink, clothes to be folded or showers to be had. If I sat there with my hair sticking in every direction in the dirtiest, rattiest clothes starving to death in the middle of a dirty clothes pile on fire but still kept playing firemen with him, he'd love every stinkin' minute of it (I love to use the word "stinkin'", so please stinkin' excuse me for that stinkin' word). Do not get me wrong. 
I LOVE playing with my sons. I truly cherish the privilege of being their mother. The thing is, I don't want the "Hoarders" film crew showing up outside of my house. I see the kids on that show crying their eyes out because they can't have a bowl of cereal in their kitchen anymore. They can't find the table! I keep this image in the back of my mind when I am feeling guilty for pulling myself away from playing cars. I am trying to train Landon on what to say and do (besides knock Austin in the head with a light saber- we are NOT playing Star Wars right now, son!!) but he is such a light-weight! He is not keeping up with the program. I tell him, "Landon, when Austin says 'the house is on fire', you are supposed to say... AW! Landon! Come OOONNN! How are you supposed to take my place if your face is smashed into the carpet?!?!"
I try to think back to my time at home. I could play the heck out of Barbies, school and store. I don't think my parents were playing those things with me. I remember my sister, Lisa, and my cousin, Tara, in my imagination world, but not my parents. Now, don't get me started, don't even get me started (another Molly Shannon reference)...my parents are wonderful!! I am sure they DID play with me when Lisa was still waddling around in full diapers (so, not long ago). Still, none of this matters to Austin. He wants me to play with him and he cares not that there are dishes in the sink, clothes to be folded or showers to be had. If I sat there with my hair sticking in every direction in the dirtiest, rattiest clothes starving to death in the middle of a dirty clothes pile on fire but still kept playing firemen with him, he'd love every stinkin' minute of it (I love to use the word "stinkin'", so please stinkin' excuse me for that stinkin' word). Do not get me wrong. 
I LOVE playing with my sons. I truly cherish the privilege of being their mother. The thing is, I don't want the "Hoarders" film crew showing up outside of my house. I see the kids on that show crying their eyes out because they can't have a bowl of cereal in their kitchen anymore. They can't find the table! I keep this image in the back of my mind when I am feeling guilty for pulling myself away from playing cars. I am trying to train Landon on what to say and do (besides knock Austin in the head with a light saber- we are NOT playing Star Wars right now, son!!) but he is such a light-weight! He is not keeping up with the program. I tell him, "Landon, when Austin says 'the house is on fire', you are supposed to say... AW! Landon! Come OOONNN! How are you supposed to take my place if your face is smashed into the carpet?!?!"