The following essay was written for Mommybloggers.com by the talented Kari of The Karianna Spectrum.

I cleaned the Cat’s room, but I cheated. In the adult equivalent of throwing everything into the closet, I filled up red bins with odds and ends. One box was for his train supplies: legitimate and acceptable categorization. The other container was for “everything else that was medium or large:” not acceptable sorting procedure. His Lego bucket became “anything small.” I cheated on my cheating technique and allowed all his “Zoob Pieces” to go in the actual “Zoob Pieces” container. I couldn’t help it.

On hands and knees, I fought my desire to sort Legos from Lite-Brite pegs, Lincoln Logs from Leap-pad cartridges. It took all my strength not to pick out the pieces of dried up play-doh from little jewels, scraps of paper, and K’nex sticks. But, I knew that to do a grand sorting procedure, I’d need time and energy. Instead, I had to be efficient and not-as-anal.

The Cat had his tonsils and adenoids removed Friday, and I want him to come home to a clean room. He needs a blank slate on the floor upon which he can construct his fancy train layouts. He requires a clean path to the bathroom to avoid stubbed toes. My mom used to admonish, “Always have a ‘fire trail’ from your bed to your exit!”

My grand plan was to fully clean and organize his room while he was gone. Husband would likely be the Cat’s pick for an overnight parent. I pictured myself returning from the hospital ready to clean. Instead, I was exhausted from the long day. I was tired from sitting still. The nervous energy I had earlier could not be put to good use. I crashed.

The next morning, I put on “Boohbah” for Spliggle and prayed he wouldn’t deconstruct the perfectly organized play area I had accomplished Thursday afternoon. Everything must be clean for the Cat’s return!

I raced upstairs and began my shoddy sweep of the Cat’s room. I tried not to pause on any one item: a scepter from his preschool unit on kings, a photo collage of his family members, intricate designs composed of magnets, and piles of drawings: some careful renditions and others angry scribbles. Beneath the mess were permanent marker renditions of train-crossing signs embedded in the carpet. Globs of toothpaste left from time-out rebellions stuck to some toys.

After vacuuming the floor and lining the boxes up along the side of the wall, I felt proud of the accomplishment, even though the carpet is still blemished and I know the boxes aren’t actually organized. The room appears clean. I tell myself that I will sort the small pieces into their correct locations and put the various medium things in their proper boxes, but I know it is unlikely to happen before a child dumps them out on the floor.

When I came downstairs, Spliggle was eating a breakfast bar that he had speared with a pencil. How did he know popsicles would be a common feature in our home in the days to come? But the play area remained clean, much to my delight.

Our hope is that the Cat’s surgery will assist him in sleeping better at night, therefore improving his behavior during the day. From doctors telling us he has Pervasive Developmental Disorder, Not Otherwise Specified (PDD-NOS) to parents whispering, “What is wrong with that boy?” we have had a bumpy road in helping him acclimate to societal expectations and “proper” behavior. I’ve seen the bits of “normal” behavior from him: the calm, articulate, intelligent and loving sides of him. Usually this view of him is after a long nap.

The surgery is an attempt to bring out more of the “good” and less of the “bad.” In some ways, it is our hope that the lack of tonsils and adenoids will give him a fresh start. And yet, I know this is not going to be a personality change; after all, I wouldn’t want the Cat to be anyone but the Cat.

The housecleaning before his return was a physical declutter as I mentally declutter. Not everything will be sorted out by this surgery. Toothpaste blobs remain stuck to the wall. But the overall picture might be just a bit cleaner.

Read more from Kari at The Karianna Spectrum.