You Can't Touch This!

You ever bought something for someone and then told them what to do with it, what not to do with it, and stayed on them about it....even though it's theirs?

I purchased a desk today. It's absolutely beautiful! And I bought it with the sole purpose of using it in homeschool for the girls to use if they needed their own space to write or draw or work on things where the desk is needed. It's not just your average desk, though. It's a piece that I think is full of character. The knobs remind me of the water knobs where you can turn it on or off. As a matter of fact, that's what they must be, and they're painted RED!

Most everything I buy for the girls, I always insist they use it "correctly". In other words, you use it when I say and you use it this way.

I really don't mean to be that way, but I know them. I know that if they even look at something with those conniving little eyes it will break or fall apart.

If I buy them books, I like to look at them first. I like to smell that new book smell. You know? Like the smell of new shoes when you just inhale slowly and as long as you can to enjoy that new shoe smell. I like the clean, crisp pages before they get all bent and the cover is almost falling off.

I bought them a couple of rolling carts for their daily work. They are supposed to work their way through the drawers until they finish everything that is planned.

And if you're not using it for school, DON'T touch. Don't put anything on it, in it, under it, beside it. Don't even look at it if you're not in school.

I bought them a keyboard for piano lessons.

But if you're not practicing piano, don't touch. Don't look at it, don't move it, don't play with it. It's not a toy (even though I know how fun it is to put it on auto and pick a beat to groove to and pretend that it's you playing that song).

But, I feel horrible. Why do I do this! I know their little hearts just like to learn and messing with stuff is a great way to learn and become familiar with something.

When I bought them their scale for math and science....a cheap little scale really....they were so excited! We had been using a coat hanger on a door knob to find out what weighed more. Teagan wanted to try it out. I have these awesome grams cubes to put in one tray to measure what it sitting in the other tray. But, I put it in the highest place I could find where I knew those little rascals couldn't climb up and get it down. Because I know if they ever get it down, they'll break it, because sure as the world they will try to weigh themselves!

I took a deep breath that day, and pulled it right back down out of its safety zone for Teagan to test out. I gave her some dinosaurs to measure. One handful weighed 16g and another handful weighed 8g. She measured a few more things, and when she was done I put it back up. Nothing broke and all was well. Whew!

My excuse is always "Well, let's wait a little bit" or "We'll do it shortly". Neely has even responded with a whiny, "Shortly means NEVER!" *gasp!*

Am I that bad!?

Tonight, I was at it again. Jason and I had pulled in the desk and I put it where I wanted it. I admired it some and spewed one simple rule before I left to run some errands: "Don't.go.near.it."

And I don't think they did. When I returned home, it was still sitting where I'd left it. It still had knobs. No scratches or scuffs. No missing legs. The chair was still intact. No drinks or plates or crayons or papers were on it.

But then I saw Neely, my sweet little Neely, sitting at the desk--the same desk I bought for them to use as a work station. And she was drawing a picture. And my chest filled with bubbly air.

"Neely Claire, what are you doing sitting at *my* desk?" Notice I said "my". I am a mean ole mama!

My obsession must come from all the magic erasers I've bought, all the gallons of KILZ we've been through, and all the paint supplies we've needed to cover up "life art". The kind you find on walls in hallways and the living room. Or those big scribbles that take up half a wall in the bedroom. Those same scribbled names you find on headboards and the hearts found in obscure places when you're spring cleaning. I remember when someone wrote "I love you" on my car in sharpie as well as on the back of the passenger side seat on the inside. That never came off, and we had a marker ban for the longest time!

There was this one time, when Neely learned to write and spell some, that she wrote Jesus' name on the dress up station my brother, Scott, and I refurbished out of an old dresser. I haven't had the heart to magic eraser that yet.

I felt a little sad, and a lot guilty, when that little booger gathered up her things off *her* desk and moved to a different spot. But is it so wrong to want to savor the moment of this mark-/scar-free material item? I just want a week with it. A week for it to be beautiful. And then, just maybe, I will turn it over to the ones it was purchased for. =)

Am I the only mama who is this obsessive over "stuff"?!