Tidy to a Fault

It is no secret that I like things in their place. I like order, organization, and tidiness. Noah is quickly picking up these habits with a little practice. My heart melts when I see him putting away every last one of his Legos without being told. It skips a beat when we are playing together and Noah wants to switch from a puzzle to a train and he announces to me, "ba", which is - let's put it back. When we were house hunting here in TN, the very room that would be Noah's had a sign hung on the wall. It said, "Don't put it down. Put it away." I think I knew just then that this house had the organizational heritage I was looking for. But there are limits to even that.

Noah has a cold and has become quite proficient at wiping his own nose. But when he's done wiping that drippy, snotty, runny, button-of-a-nose, he then shoves the contaminated tissue RIGHT BACK INTO THE TISSUE BOX. Repeatedly. Even though we keep reminding him that, in this case, we don't put things back where we got them, we put them in the trash instead, his well-trained little mind will not relent. Those nasty tissues keep going back in the tissue box.

Tidy to a fault, indeed.