AUTHOR: Sheri Lynch TITLE: A Big Pile DATE: 12/09/2003 04:07:00 PM ----- BODY:

For the past week, Olivia's room has looked like the site of a forty megaton piñata blast. Books, dolls, stuffed animals, and blankets strewn from corner to corner. Barrettes submerged in carpet, lying in wait for a misplaced and unlucky foot. Wadded Kleenex -- the remnants of Olivia's well-intentioned effort to teach her dolls to blow their noses. Odd things too, like a stray Tupperware lid, half of a purple plastic Easter egg, and a small inflatable pumpkin. We were well overdue for a serious cleaning. But where to begin? My husband, ever the commander-in-chief, barked, "Let's get rid of everything! No child needs this many toys! It's insane! Bag them up! Give them away! Get them out of here!" Intending to do nothing of the sort, I waited till he was out of the house and Caramia was napping. "Come on, Old Baby." I said. "Let's go have a look at your room." Olivia likes big piles. Of everything. Rice, Lucky Charms, milk, water, Jello, chalk, soap bubbles -- you name it, and she wants a big pile of it. Abundance makes her happy. Which might explain how her bedroom floor came to be covered in stuffed bunnies, pigs, bears, frogs, alligators, ducks, and even an ostrich. Surveying the brightly colored heap, I suddenly felt very tired. Olivia, however, was delighted to have a guest. "I did make a big mess with all of my toys and then I did dance with my one two feet." she reported happily. Observing my apparent speechlessness, she repeated, "I was dancing in my mess, Mommy." She demonstrated, executing a manic little two-step and booting a miniature Eyeore under the bed. "We're going to clean this up together," I began. But Olivia had other ideas. Barreling past me, she began ransacking her closet. "Yes! I will help you clean!" She reappeared an instant later, cheeks flushed in triumph, waving a much-gnawed copy of Disney Babies Count to Ten, a book her father and I had grown so weary of that we'd cleverly hidden it away. Obviously we hadn't been nearly clever enough. Olivia thrust the book into my hands, and beamed. "You want to read this to me?" After a quick counting lesson with Baby Mickey, I began sorting the stuffed toys into two piles: keep and toss. After just a few minutes, the keeps outnumbered the tosses ten to one. In fact, the only animals singled out for the trash heap were three grimy refugees from a fast food kids meal. That meant cramming a mountain of plush creatures into the toy box until the lid would barely close. That done, I turned my attention to the play kitchen in the corner. The sink overflowed with dishes. Plastic carrots and apples were piled into the microwave. A Matchbox car simmered on the stove. From the closet I heard happy cackles and clatters as Olivia succeeded in prying open a box of Eric's old Duplos. Swallowing the same feeling of hopeless futility that no doubt dogged poor Sysiphus at his boulder, I carefully arranged cups and saucers, hunted down miniature spoons, and reunited teapots with their lids. Stepping back to admire my work, I put my foot right into the farm. Olivia inherited the farm play set, along with a dozen or so related accessories. There is a barn with fencing, two bales of hay, a truck and tractor, a cow, a pig, two sheep, and some sort of furry blue monster-creature wearing bib overalls who is obviously in charge of the whole shebang. The most exciting feature is a hand-cranked winch, which allows for a bale of hay to be roped and hoisted into the hayloft. Unfortunately, the only thing Olivia has shown any interest in winching are the sheep. It's not uncommon to find one of the poor things dangling midway between floor and loft, a stunned look on it's molded plastic face. By the time I gathered everything up and stowed the pieces in a Ziploc bag, Olivia was at her kitchen sink, chattering and rummaging through the dishes I had only just finished stacking. "Can you have tea with me, Mommy? We will have a big pile! I will make it for you!" So I gave up. We had a big pile of tea. Then it was time for stories and cuddles and a nap. Her room looked a bit tidier, but not much. I know that we could enforce neatness, could strip her toys down to the bare minimum and carefully rotate her books and dolls so that she has only two or three items to play with at a time. I've read about this strategy numerous times in parenting books and magazines. I don't doubt that it's a very effective way of reigning in chaos and clutter. But the truth is, my exuberant little daughter loves her big piles. And I love her enthusiasm. Moderation can wait. For now, let there be Legos and teddies and all kinds of things that sparkle and shine. I'd rather have a tea party in a messy room, than vacuum a spotless one. Clinking our cups one afternoon, Olivia suddenly hugged me tight. "I like you Mommy!" she shouted. Forget a clean house -- I'd rather have moments just like that. In fact, I'll take a big pile.

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