An empty baby shoe box, a tiny board book, a tiny plastic dinosaur, a buzz lightyear clock

As I was unearthing our green room, I found a small Pooh Bear backpack filled with the items listed above, packed by none other than Ben himself.  Can you fathom what he was planning?  And if you know Ben, he had a plan and it was something BIG.

He has been thinking up ways to make money recently.  One of his ideas was to sell some of his toys at a yard sale.  He was super excited, in a way only Ben can be, to have said sale.  I have tried again and again, most of the summer, to discourage the yard sale.  Last Saturday when we returned home from Kids in the Rotunda (great FREE performances for families every Saturday morning during the school year), I relented and he set up shop.  Alas, he had no customers.  After I put Lotta down for a nap, I discovered Ben, his toys all set up on a HUGE box, Ben laying (lying?) under our big front yard tree.  Although he was willing to try again, in the name of making money, he explained that he had not had fun.

Which brings me to the point of what I was pondering.  How do I support Ben's fantastically terrific ideas and, at the same time, allow myself to be not so fond of some of them.  Like when he wants to bake without a recipe?  Which he thoroughly enjoys as much as I thoroughly despise cleaning up the mess that inevitably occurs after such a creation.  (Did you watch Modern Family last week with a similar theme?)  My dad allowed us to create "everything" cakes when we were growing up and we had super fun doing so.  Yes, I have tried the whole, "We can play this only if you clean up the mess you have created."  Unfortunately, what happens with that great intention is he is completely motivated to clean up before we begin and completely unmotivated after the play has ceased.  (Sort of like the joke Jerry Seinfeld tells about how when the bill comes after eating at a restaurant your motivation to pay is so much less than when you were hungry ordering the food.  I don't think I said that right.  When Jerry says it is is totally hilarious.)

I decided for now it feels slightly better to me to allow him to carry out his fantastical ideas (not the one, however, about us turning our house into a restaurant).  Because the more I try to convince him that his idea will not work, the more he is dead set on accomplishing said idea.  I love that he is so exuberant, so filled with a zest for life.  I love his enthusiasm.  As I have said previously, I do not like feeling like Rabbit in the Winnie the Pooh story, "Unbouncing Tigger".   It doesn't feel good to be the "bubble buster", the party crasher.  I want to be the cheerleader, the encourager.

When I inquired of Ben what the bag was packed for, he lit up, saying he and Lotta were going on an adventure.  The tiny book was about animals to help them on their safari.  He then went on his way to create this experience for himself and his sister.

I think Lotta is throwing away all of the toothbrushes I am buying for her.  At one time  there were at least 5 around here, now there are none.  But that is another story all together...