The majority of the books you see are mine. They have been stacked in piles in a corner of our dining room since April, when Charlie got it into his head that all the bookshelves must come down. Jim has been enjoining me to go through the books and take out the ones I need so he can pack away the rest for the basement and we can reclaim a quarter of the dining room. I have been waffling and then, on Wednesday afternoon, Charlie, mad (understandably) that we had removed most of the 'blue Disney' album he has been excessively, obsessively, and only listening to for what seems like weeks -- and also not pleased by a trifecta of no dad home, Thursday off for Rosh Hashanah and ongoing days of wet weather -- threw his iPad, cleared tables, scattered the book piles, threw plastic containers.
Yes, our house is still furnished in such a way that a boy in a behavior storm can storm in, with mess created but that's about it.
Charlie stood for a long time, unmoving. I said something about him helping to pick things up 'when he was ready.'
After several minutes, he got his iPad and sat staring at it on the couch, then played one song, Paul Westerberg singing 'Born For Me.'
Then he got up and picked up some things and we restored the house to order together with one bonus: I finally weeded out the books I want to keep upstairs, and those due for boxing, and the basement.