R.I.P.

I have a feeling this is the day that Ben will look back on and say, "That day. That's the one that made me realize I needed to seek professional help. To heal the wound that my mother willingly inflicted upon me. And so, here I am. My first day of therapy."

Today is the day we (I) implemented a new rule called NO MORE PLAYDOUGH INSIDE THE HOUSE. At least not until my kids are over the age of 9 (because over the age of 9 you're old enough to know how to not make giant messes. Right?). Before any of you judge me for being the meanest mother on earth, and for those of you who've not been to my house, let me paint the picture. We live in an older house. You know, the kind where it seemed perfectly reasonable to have CARPETING in the dining area. So every time Ben begs and pleads to do playdough, I have the same internal dialogue, arguing with myself, trying to weigh the consequences of allowing neon sticky substances to be in such close proximity with our very lightly colored tan carpeting.

But today, I was all, "Um. Sure. Since Ella's asleep, this is a good time to do it. Just be really really REALLY careful to keep all the playdough on the table and off of the carpet, okay?" And oh my goodness, you would have thought I just handed Ben the world. The smile! The glee! The surprise! The anticipation! So I let him have at it. And I was really enjoying the almost 60 minutes of peace and quiet that it provided, so I really thought it was a win-win decision I had made. I was patting myself on the back and telling myself how impressed I was with...myself. And I even helped Ben clean up the clumps of playdough on the table. And I even cheerfully took out the vacuum to get all the little crumbs that innocently fell to the floor. And I was like, Wow. That wasn't so bad. What was I all paranoid about? I'm such a goo-

And then I walked down the hallway to put something away.

Ummmm, what's with the neon green playdough in the hallway?

And then I walked into Ella's room. Ummmm, what's with the neon green playdough plastered to the carpet fibers in her bedroom?

And then I went to the living room. WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON WITH THIS AWFUL NEON GREEN STUFF ALL OVER THE PLACE????

Apparently Ben is a magnet for sticky neon substances and inadvertently (albeit innocently) tracked it in every room of our house. And that's when the Wrath of Mom struck. I had no choice but to put a semi-permanent ban on all inside use of colored & sticky dough-like substances. I just don't have the tolerance (or desire or energy) to have my free time dominated by becoming far too familiar with carpet cleaners and spot removers and using my elbow grease to remove these awful little splots.

I mean, can you blame me? If this house had wall-to-wall tile or wood flooring, it really would be another story. But this whole playdough/light carpet combination is just an invitation for disaster! And I'm not very good with disasters.

And so, we'll miss you, indoor playdough. Thanks for all the memories. We hope to see you again- maybe when the kids are older and more aware of their surrounding and their messes. In the meantime, I'm taking matters in my own hands. Just wait, I'll come up with a carpet resistant version of playdough and patent that baby ASAP. And all y'all will all thank me profusely and buy stock in my company.