I have a true love/hate relationship with forts. I know, this is a strange thing to admit, but they say it helps to share these kind of deep seated struggles.

Exactly who “they” are I’ve never been too sure. One day I might run into one of “them” and when I do I want to be ready.

Back to forts.

I love forts. I love the homemade forts that involve pillows and blankets and chairs arranged strategically around the room. I remember spending hours making forts with my three brothers (of course, those often involved weapons of some sort, depending on if we were fighting Indians or robbers). As a long-time babysitter, I have built many a fort in my time.

I hate forts. This is where the hate part of love/hate comes in. Forts make a mess in so many different ways. First, they are usually placed in the very center of a room so the entire area is unusable – you can barely walk through the room. Also they require blankets dragged from every corner of the house (“How did you get that collection of Mexican blankets down? They were packed away in the garage!) and, of course, books (the biggest and heaviest ones possible) pulled off bookshelves to “stabilize and secure” the fort.

The older kids spend so much time building “cool forts” for the little ones that we often have to put school on hold, just waiting for the building process to complete. They take such a long time and involve such creative planning that I sometimes wonder if we need a permit of occupancy in order to start playing.

Sigh. These are the crazy, twisted, mixed feelings that I live with in this house of kiddos. Thankfully I have a blog, so I don’t have to suppress these conflicted emotions any longer.

Today Daniel left our school reading time to “make a quick fort for David and Sarah.” Cue a rather long break. Joshua has taught Daniel well in the fort making business (if only there was some money to be made in this line of work). Daniel often creates elaborate reading nooks and fun spots for the younger two children.

Today was no different.

Yes, that is a bath tub. Yes, if you look closely you can see the face of my six year old son. Yes, that is a crib mattress on top of bathtub and six year old.

Rub a dub, dub, two kiddos in the tub.

Having the time of their lives. “Can we sleep in here?”

Daniel pulls back the mattress to reveal the children. Unlike my own childhood, where forts were modeled after military structures (the Alamo comes to mind), these kids usually bring in a pile of books and a few toys. You never know when a good football might come in handy.

Ah, it’s most likely because we are doing such a wonderful job as homeschoolers of instilling a love of reading and quiet play. Or … maybe this is just the one spot in all of the house were they can have some peace and quiet and actually finish a book without being interrupted. Hey, is there room in there for me?

The fun lasted until the blankets started getting wet. Not sure how that happened. Hmmm? Can’t imagine. The subliminal messages were too hard to resist; both of the younger children begged to take a bath later on in the day. I guess you can take the kid out of the bathtub but you can’t take the bathtub out of the kid. No wait, that makes no sense at all. You can take the fort out of the bathtub but you can’t take the bathtub out of the fort.

Do you ever get the feeling that some people shouldn’t blog late at night?

2 Obscure Movie Quotes for the Day:
1. “Lex, why do so many people have to die for the crime of the century?”
“Why? You ask why? Why does the phone always ring when you’re in the bathtub?”

Which leads to the next one (different movie).

2. I never put a phone in a shower before. Do you get many calls in here?
A steady stream.

Kathy

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