The green monster

I thought I was being smart by not really allowing markers of any kind in my house. Along with paints and any other kind of kid crafty project stuff. I know that we should allow our children to express themselves through art and it's cool to have a picture that was painted by your children hanging from the refrigerator door. Not for me. I could already envision the destruction and damage that could be caused. I'm surprised I have crayons in the house. I have to draw the line somewhere.
But I started thinking that an easel with a dry erase board and chalkboard would be neat to have to help with teaching the ABC's and 123's. Surprise, surprise when during a visit one time my in-laws brought an easel for the girls. The initial markers were not that good. Eventually we got a set of good ones and I was very careful at putting them up high and out of the way. Now Sweet Pea knew where they were. High on the top shelf of the linen closet. Not an easy climb for either girl. So I thought they were safe from sticky fingers.
I WAS WRONG.
That Saturday morning started off with the girls having to clean up their toys in the bonus room. Now I gave them a break to have breakfast but they had to take care of the mess first before they would have a bath and could go outside. My husband was in need of some things to finish working on part of our yard and I was sure that he wouldn't want to stop and babysit the girls as they cleaned. See, something inside of me just felt like something would happen. After awhile of sitting around and barking orders at the girls to clean, my husband said he needed the items before he could really continue on a certain section of the yard. So I said, "What should I do with the girls?" He replied, "Well they should be cleaning up their mess." And he kind of left it at that. So, bravely, I told the girls that I had to go get somethings for their daddy at the store and that they were to finish picking up their toys before they could go outside. Simple, clear, and to the point. Not to difficult right? I set off to store with the thought that maybe their toys would be picked up when I returned but still there was that nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I returned after being gone for about an hour. My first question to my husband, "Where are the girls?" He replied with, "There inside cleaning I believe. I heard Cocoa saying something and I told her to finish cleaning up and then she was quiet." The pit in my stomach did not have a good feeling about this. So, I walked inside...up the stairs...and down the hall. The hall is a little dark without the light on but no bother. I went toward the sound of voices. It was coming from Cocoa's room. I turned slowly at the door and as my eyes gazed from the mess on the floor up towards the little girl standing by the wall with the marker in her hand. YES A MARKER. A GREEN DRY ERASE MARKER.
(An example of her artwork)
My jaw dropped. My heart sunk. For a minute I could hear my heartbeat come to a complete stop. I wasn't sure what to do. I was frozen. I broke from my daze and screamed, "WHY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" This word would continue to come out of my mouth as I surveyed the damage. The wall in Cocoa's room. The comforted on the twin bed. The crochet baby blanket (that I made for her before she was born!!!!) and blanket on her toddler bed. The curtain, her stuffed animal. The walls in the hallway, the door of the bonus room. The door frame to Sweet Pea's room, her bed, the door to the balcony, the balcony floor, the stucco outside the balcony. COCOA HERSELF, was covered in green marker. I yelled at Sweet Pea asking her who got the marker and told her not to lie. She didn't lie of course and told me that she got it down. I'm not sure though if she had anything to do with the artwork. She wouldn't answer me. I cried. I cried and cried. Cocoa kept coming up to me to console me (Nice to know she cares about mommy crying but not the damage she just made) but I kept telling her to go away. I was so mad I went and opened the window of the bonus room and told my husband he had to see the mess but didn't tell him what it was. He told me he really couldn't stop and to TAKE A PICTURE. So, I did just that. Then I called my sister to have her calm me down. (Thank you again). Then I took the camera outside to show him the damage and to explain what I saw since the pictures didn't do it justice. So I must say in conclusion, Cocoa had her toys taken away and both were banned from the bonus room again. Yes, mommy locked the door again. Now it's a week later and my husband can maybe now understand how I can't easily trust the girls inside the house alone. Why did it take a mess like this for him to understand? I guess like me somewhere in our hearts we believe that our little girls aren't capable of such destruction. I'm hoping nothing like this will ever happen again. Now if only I could get the marker off of the stucco before he sees it (I'm sure he saw it on the balcony floor but I don't believe he actually went onto the balcony). Kids will be kids right?