You guys are totally going to get this. You are absolutely, 100% going to understand why this problem just had to be solved.
A little background. My son, Jackson, is 2 1/2. He’s cute and smart and loves to look at books. All great stuff. But, have I mentioned he’s 2 1/2? Which means that when he digs into a pile of books, this is what it’s going to look like afterwards. See below.
This is his pile of very favorite books. The ones he likes to read during Independent Room Time. These are books that he reads to his Buzz Lightyear and his teddy bear, Carl. In short, these are books I WANT him to get into. Daily.
But, this little shelf is the view I get into his room every time I walk down the hallway. The pile-ish-ness was absolutely driving me nuts. I had tried bookends to no avail. He’s just not capable of that kind of book organization. (Looked great, though.)
Then, I tried teaching him to make neater piles. But, for now, the best he can do (and it’s awesome!) is to re-pile them on this table, rather than strewing them about his room. I consider this a win.
But I was still constantly growling (to myself) about how messy it looked.
I had to find a way to make this small group of books accessible to him in his favorite chair, while also making them acceptable to my Penelope eye. What I didn‘t want to do was continue to be irritable about something so dumb.
(And I hate that I can’t just let this kind of thing go. But that’s a post for another day.)
So, when in doubt, go to The Mother Ship: The Container Store.
Here’s a REALLY unflattering selfie I took last weekend while I was shopping there. Whew! Looking every day of my 40 years here. Moving on!
I was in the store for but 10 minutes when I saw the perfect item! Hopefully, the problem would be solved!
Teaser photo. Don’t you love their bags? Sigh. Container Store. Sigh.
This. Basket. Wide enough to fit even his larger picture books. Solid enough that it doesn’t slide around when he’s fitting the books back in. Attractive enough that it looks like it belongs in the room. Love. Problem solved. Growling and irritability (on this score, at least) ceased.
Do you think it’s too much if I try to teach Jackson to put the books in in size order? Is that too much? Am I setting him up for a lifetime of “My Mom was bat shit crazy” therapy?
I worry sometimes. I do. How my Penelope-ness will affect my children.
But then, each day, he does this for half an hour. So I gotta think I’m doing at least a little something right. Or maybe he’s just awesome. That’s it.