You've probably all seen this meme:
Jerad was working late and I had the kids all fed and bathed and was mentally counting down the 30 minutes I had to go until it was time to put them to bed. Usually I like to spend that time playing with them, or helping them wind down by reading but since they were playing entertaining themselves I decided to tackle the mountain of laundry I'd been avoiding all weekend.
I brought it all out of the guest room and put it on the (vacuumed) area behind the couch and began sorting into piles. Jerad's, mine, the boys, towels, etc. Within 4 minutes Marshall came over and wanted to "help" me make piles; by taking things that I'd already sorted and making new piles sorted by color. Then Miller piped up with "here you go" and started carting things that I'd already folded back to the washing machine and putting them inside.
They both thought they were being SO helpful and were laughing and having a great time. Its moments like that that I have to take a deep breath and decide to be patient. In all honesty, even though they're being adorable, inside I do get so frustrated because COME ON! They were perfectly happy playing trains 2 minutes before which has got to be more fun than messing up what I'm doing, and if they just left me alone for 15 minutes I could have been finished. They're young and just not really old enough to "help" even though they want to. But, I don't want to squash their helpful little spirits and I'm hoping that once they ARE old enough to pitch in they'll still want to.
So, I just give up getting anything done and try to enjoy how adorable Miller looks toddling around with a pile of towels that he can't see over and commend Marshall on his decision to put the Thomas pj's in the "blue pile" because even though they are mostly red, Thomas is blue. We ended by playing a game of peek-a-boo with the towels and after they were asleep I decided I wished I was too so I left it all downstairs where it'll be waiting for me when I get home from work in an hour:)