Sharpie: Both friend and foe

There is nothing like the smell of a really strong Sharpie marker. When I was in middle school, I used to take off the cap and just inhale the scent. It used to remind me of the start of the school year, organizing my materials, and just feeling the peace of being in control. I would whip that little white marker out, take the cap off with my teeth and immediately start labeling and placing items according to likeness.
Yes, I used to be the organizational queen. I would take great pleasure in creating order among chaos in my bedroom, dorm room and later my apartment. When my husband and I moved, my Sharpie was my friend. Now that very marker, the marker that used to bring so much stability and sanctity to my life is still a friend. However, today, it made the transition to foe.

It happened on a typical day in my household. I had put the twins down for their afternoon nap and was happily transitioning winter clothes over to summer clothes. Folding outfits that had been outgrown and were now being placed into their obligatory bins. Blissfully whipping my Sharpie out, ripping off a piece of duct tape and carefully smoothing down the edges over the cool, clean plastic of the containers. All the while labeling: 12-18 mo., fall/winter, and thinking to myself how the months are just flying by and soon these wonderful, child-filled days will be long gone. Can you hear the soft music playing in the background and the whistle of the birds outside my window? It's practically a Disney movie in here.

Then I hear it. First a bang, then a crash. No big deal, I think to myself. The twins are probably just reading a book after waking up from their naps and throwing that marvelous piece of literature onto the floor since they're done looking at the pages. After a few minutes, the bangs are getting louder and the crashes are beginning to resemble sounds more along the lines of a semi - truck coming through their bedroom. It's definitely time to check what's going on in there.
As I open the door to their room, I am greeted by a sight I never really thought or expected I would see in my lifetime. Somehow the little buggers had managed to lift their individual trashcans into their individual cribs and were now playing in the garbage that had filled their just changed crib sheets. Which as any mom knows, changing crib sheets is something akin to wrestling a gator in Florida. It usually ends with at least three broken nails and tears.
Now let's put this into perspective, the trash cans are literally bigger than the twins in both height and width. I have absolutely no idea how not just one of them, but literally both of them were able to somehow wrangle these monstrosities into their cribs. But really, that's not my problem right now. My problem now lies with the cherub faced stinkers who have simultaneously said, "uh-oh," through their binkies, as they saw the door open to their room.
I yell out, "Are you kidding me?" which immediately causes my oldest son to bound up the stairs saying, "What, what, mommy, what did they do?" Because he also knows their penchant for the mischievous.
He says, "Oh my word, I can't believe it, mommy I would never have done that when I was a baby." And he's right, he wouldn't have.
But again, not my problem right now. My bigger issue is cleaning the trash out of both cribs and righting the trash cans onto the floor.
As I am changing twin #1, I allowed twin #2 to get down and play with his older brother in his bedroom. When I walk out of the twins' bedroom, I am greeted by the sight of twin #1 happily and let's get right down to it, gleefully coloring in bright blue Sharpie marker all over my faux -finished, mustard yellow walls in our upstairs hallway.
Yes everyone, that was the day the Disney music stopped, the screaming started and the Sharpie became my foe.

Oh, and FYI, Windex, Fantastik, hand soap and any other abrasive cleaner do not work on Sharpie removal.

P.S. Having your husband read your blog may not be the best way for him to find out about situations like these.