Everytime I think about decluttering the house, or attacking the clutter in the shed, or any other grand project, I devise a huge plan. I set out my goals, I write them all down. I make sticker charts. I envision the end. Let me tell ya somthing. IT NEVER WORKS. Never. That's why I am still sitting amongst my clutter.
What am I going to do different this time around? I'm not sure yet. Should I haul out the heavy artillery of well laid goals and schemes? I feel like a different approach is needed. Obviously, the my current situation isn't working.
I often enjoy a good self help book now and then. I love reading success stories and testimonials about diet plans and organizing. They are so energizing and inspiring. You can tell that something really clicked for that person. You can see in their short little blurb that a light has come on. They are a new person. They have been born again and made over. It's a beautiful thing to see! I am in envy. I have yet to write in my testimonial, and I am far from a success story. I'm waiting for my click.
What does it take for the click to happen? What must preface the click? How fed up did these people get before they decided to flip? When is it my turn? Am I fed up enough? Perhaps if I write about my clutter enough, I will become obsessed enough to actually do something about it.
Now there is the topic of the plan. Which is where we started off in the first place. Must I have a plan? Well I do in a way. My lack of a plan is the plan. Do I dare dive into this cleansing of my home without a plan? The thought is astounding. Will it work to not have everything carefully assessed and timed out and catagorized before I touch a single piece of clutter? Oh my. It goes against all I have been taught. All the great classes of success and management and organizational books.
On to my new approach. In my past quest to overcome post partum depression, I read a book called "Creating Optimism" by a woman named Alicia Fortinberry and her husband. I can never remember his name. The book had some great concepts in it about coping with modern life. There was much discussion about how we need to live more like our ancestors who were hunter/gatherers. One part of the book discussed the need to believe in an omnipotent power. They said that it doesn't matter who (or what) you believe in, as long as you believed in something greater than you. Why? Because this gives you hope. I can't explain it as well as they do. If you have a clutter problem, get the book. Clutter is often a symptom of something internal that needs addressing, and the book will help.
Pressing forward. I believe that I have a big mess. I need help to clean it up. If I continue believing that I can do it all by myself, it's not going to get done because I am flat out overwhelmed. So here's the kicker. I have to start praying for the clutter to go away. I"m not kidding. Although I wish I was. I am a religious person. I attend church weekly, we pray as a family daily, I have a testimony that Christ is my Saviour. It just seems odd to me that I should start praying about my clutter. To me, you pray about the big things. I thank my Heavenly Father on a regular basis for the wonderful things I have in my life. I am thankful for a home, a family, a car that works decent, a healthy body. But honestly, is clutter worth praying over? Now I am thinking this out in my head. Of course it is. The problem is bigger than I am. I have been battling the clutter for years now. The planning and the schemes have not worked. They have provided a temporary band-aid, but I have not been able to let go.
So my plan, is simply, to pray my clutter away. Gah. I hope this works.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Assessing the Damage
What am I up against? Let's see. Hhmm. At this very moment when you walk in the front door, there is a dresser covered in papers. The dresser is full of other stuff. Not just random junk, but stuff. There is a big difference you know. There are two small bookcases that are empty. They are leftover from decluttering my daughters room a month ago. I have not found anything to put on them, and I don't know where to put them, so there they sit, a mismatched pair. My oldest son loves to use them as a garage for his toys. Right now the shelves are empty and a pile of toys sits on the floor in front. The dresser turned into a catch all for the mail. And anything else to important to just set anywhere. Because anything left below four feet high can literally grow legs in this house, I have lots of places in my home that are up high and covered with things I don't want the toddler and the baby to get. In this tiny entryway I also have my full sized stroller opened and waiting to walk to school. It takes up loads of space and I trip over it all day. But that is where it belongs.
This is a peek into my home. Anyone who comes to the front door can see in through the window and size up my junk. It is not a first impression that I am proud of. I am rather embarassed by it.
My opponent has many faces. My two biggest problems are toys and clothes. Followed closely by paperwork. I think anyone with small kids can relate.
The toys. They breed. I swear that when the lights go out at night they are having parties and doing unmentionable things all over the house. I'd like to say they do it only in the toy box, but the toys are everywhere. In the bathroom, the kitchen, the dining room, the living room, the entry, the stinky room, the back porch, spilling out onto the lawn. Amazingly there are even some in the playroom, and my kids' rooms. But the one place that really annoys me to find toys is in MY room. Where did all these toys come from? Where are they going to go? My kids are too young to take care of them all. They are very overwhelmed with the prospect of having to pick them all up at once. Even if by some small miracle they did pick them all up at once, we do not have a place set aside for all the toys. Except in the shed. I just shivered and broke out in hives thinking about the toys in the shed. They have their own corner out there. And when I say corner, it is a 12 X 12 area, covered in toys two feet deep. Gah.
The clothes. I know that in order to conquer this mess, I must take responsibility for it. But I swear I can blame this one on everyone but me. When I buy my kids clothes, we go to the local thrift store, and I am very picky. It needs to last, it needs to fit right, and it has to be modest. This is not the case with some well meaning relatives. They go to a department store in a larger city and the store happens to be having a GREAT sale. They assume that my kids are in need of clothes because whenever we see them, the kids clothes are ill fitting or dirty because I have 20 loads of laundry to do at home, and they scrounged their own that morning. Anyway, they decide that this is the sale of the century and they begin to shop. I am just a victim here. No joke, my daughter got 8 pairs of shorts this way once. Some were identical. My sons have 12 pairs of pants in the size 2t from these shopping excursions. The list goes on and on. For awhile I thought it was great. They were nice clothes for no money, clothes that I could pass down from kid to kid. Now I am beginning to see the light. I have five to six large rubbermaid bins of clothes waiting for the next kid to grow into. I don't even have another daughter yet and I am still saving clothes for her. (My girl is my oldest). I feel like I can't give the clothes away. I tried to once. I had a nice big box of clothes to go to goodwill. The relative stopped by and I asked her to take the box to Goodwill because she was headed there anyway. She looked through the box and I believe she took the whole thing home. No need to waste perfectly good clothes! Have I mentioned that my kids are the only kids she knows that are little enough for these clothes? And then there is the couch buried with clothes in the shed. *Shiver*
The paperwork. I have oodles of stacks of papers. Reciepts, bills, artwork from my kids. Recipes, phone numbers, brochures. Lists, product inserts, warranties. Stacks. All over my house. One giant stack by the microwave. One giant stack on aforementioned dresser. One meduim stack beginning to bury the computer monitor. One meduim stack on top of the fridge. An entire bookcase in the playroom from my business. One small one on top of the dryer from my husbands pocket emptying ritual. Another on his dresser for the same reason. My daughter has a a whole box of papers from last school year under her bed. Let's not forget the shed. We moved boxes of important papers. Large moving boxes full. Papers. My head is starting to hurt.
This list is by no means inclusive. I think if I can get a grip on these things, that I would have more time to attack the other problem areas. For example the kitchen, my sewing and the movies.
Although I am not fond of the Flylady system, the principles behind it are sound. You cannot organize clutter. You must clean a little bit everyday. You must form habits of efficient living. Habits. Ick.
This is a peek into my home. Anyone who comes to the front door can see in through the window and size up my junk. It is not a first impression that I am proud of. I am rather embarassed by it.
My opponent has many faces. My two biggest problems are toys and clothes. Followed closely by paperwork. I think anyone with small kids can relate.
The toys. They breed. I swear that when the lights go out at night they are having parties and doing unmentionable things all over the house. I'd like to say they do it only in the toy box, but the toys are everywhere. In the bathroom, the kitchen, the dining room, the living room, the entry, the stinky room, the back porch, spilling out onto the lawn. Amazingly there are even some in the playroom, and my kids' rooms. But the one place that really annoys me to find toys is in MY room. Where did all these toys come from? Where are they going to go? My kids are too young to take care of them all. They are very overwhelmed with the prospect of having to pick them all up at once. Even if by some small miracle they did pick them all up at once, we do not have a place set aside for all the toys. Except in the shed. I just shivered and broke out in hives thinking about the toys in the shed. They have their own corner out there. And when I say corner, it is a 12 X 12 area, covered in toys two feet deep. Gah.
The clothes. I know that in order to conquer this mess, I must take responsibility for it. But I swear I can blame this one on everyone but me. When I buy my kids clothes, we go to the local thrift store, and I am very picky. It needs to last, it needs to fit right, and it has to be modest. This is not the case with some well meaning relatives. They go to a department store in a larger city and the store happens to be having a GREAT sale. They assume that my kids are in need of clothes because whenever we see them, the kids clothes are ill fitting or dirty because I have 20 loads of laundry to do at home, and they scrounged their own that morning. Anyway, they decide that this is the sale of the century and they begin to shop. I am just a victim here. No joke, my daughter got 8 pairs of shorts this way once. Some were identical. My sons have 12 pairs of pants in the size 2t from these shopping excursions. The list goes on and on. For awhile I thought it was great. They were nice clothes for no money, clothes that I could pass down from kid to kid. Now I am beginning to see the light. I have five to six large rubbermaid bins of clothes waiting for the next kid to grow into. I don't even have another daughter yet and I am still saving clothes for her. (My girl is my oldest). I feel like I can't give the clothes away. I tried to once. I had a nice big box of clothes to go to goodwill. The relative stopped by and I asked her to take the box to Goodwill because she was headed there anyway. She looked through the box and I believe she took the whole thing home. No need to waste perfectly good clothes! Have I mentioned that my kids are the only kids she knows that are little enough for these clothes? And then there is the couch buried with clothes in the shed. *Shiver*
The paperwork. I have oodles of stacks of papers. Reciepts, bills, artwork from my kids. Recipes, phone numbers, brochures. Lists, product inserts, warranties. Stacks. All over my house. One giant stack by the microwave. One giant stack on aforementioned dresser. One meduim stack beginning to bury the computer monitor. One meduim stack on top of the fridge. An entire bookcase in the playroom from my business. One small one on top of the dryer from my husbands pocket emptying ritual. Another on his dresser for the same reason. My daughter has a a whole box of papers from last school year under her bed. Let's not forget the shed. We moved boxes of important papers. Large moving boxes full. Papers. My head is starting to hurt.
This list is by no means inclusive. I think if I can get a grip on these things, that I would have more time to attack the other problem areas. For example the kitchen, my sewing and the movies.
Although I am not fond of the Flylady system, the principles behind it are sound. You cannot organize clutter. You must clean a little bit everyday. You must form habits of efficient living. Habits. Ick.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
My Dream
I have a vision of what I want my house to look like. I know what I want to do in my home. I have an idea of how I can be a more effective member of my household. My current lifestyle is not supporting living the dream.
I watch shows about hoarders and I shudder. Is that going to be me in a few years? How does is get that bad? Does my house look like that already, and I am in denial?
I've tried a few things, but am not motivated to try anymore. I don't want to follow anymore rules. I don't want to have stacks of routines to do, and zones to stick to. The silly thing is that I love organizing. I love to wonder through those stores loaded with cute and practical things to organize your stuff. Even though I am not particularly fond of Flylady (the system, not Marla. Marla is a wonderful lady with a huge heart who has done wonders for millions) I know there is a resounding truth in her mantra "You cannot organize clutter." Clutter is really clutter. You cannot organize it into oblivion, you must dispose of it.
And so I look around myself and size up my opponent. I don't work to make money right now. I am working on a much bigger project (ahem, 4 kids under the age of 7). So I size up the adversary of my dream. I could stand to make some money from all this junk. That would help with the clutter of debt hanging over us. But is it worth it? How much money can I stand to make and how much work will it take? I could have a yard sale, but I'm tired of nagging my hardworking hunk of a man to clean out the garage. I have no idea where to start in that department. It is mostly his stuff. And stuff that belongs down at the shop where he works. We've owned our home for 3 years now and the only time the car got put in the garage was when there was the threat of an impending hail storm.
Back to my dream. I need a clean and efficient home. I do not have the time nor the inclination to keep up with so much stuff. How much can I simplify? How much can I get rid of with no one asking where it went? And the shed. Oh my. The shed. That is a big problem. We have a storage shed out back. It's about 24ft X 15ft and it is FULL. Of stuff.
So I started this blog with the intent of journaling my experience of paring down the mountain of consumerism that is drowning me. Tomorrow? Assessing the junk.
I watch shows about hoarders and I shudder. Is that going to be me in a few years? How does is get that bad? Does my house look like that already, and I am in denial?
I've tried a few things, but am not motivated to try anymore. I don't want to follow anymore rules. I don't want to have stacks of routines to do, and zones to stick to. The silly thing is that I love organizing. I love to wonder through those stores loaded with cute and practical things to organize your stuff. Even though I am not particularly fond of Flylady (the system, not Marla. Marla is a wonderful lady with a huge heart who has done wonders for millions) I know there is a resounding truth in her mantra "You cannot organize clutter." Clutter is really clutter. You cannot organize it into oblivion, you must dispose of it.
And so I look around myself and size up my opponent. I don't work to make money right now. I am working on a much bigger project (ahem, 4 kids under the age of 7). So I size up the adversary of my dream. I could stand to make some money from all this junk. That would help with the clutter of debt hanging over us. But is it worth it? How much money can I stand to make and how much work will it take? I could have a yard sale, but I'm tired of nagging my hardworking hunk of a man to clean out the garage. I have no idea where to start in that department. It is mostly his stuff. And stuff that belongs down at the shop where he works. We've owned our home for 3 years now and the only time the car got put in the garage was when there was the threat of an impending hail storm.
Back to my dream. I need a clean and efficient home. I do not have the time nor the inclination to keep up with so much stuff. How much can I simplify? How much can I get rid of with no one asking where it went? And the shed. Oh my. The shed. That is a big problem. We have a storage shed out back. It's about 24ft X 15ft and it is FULL. Of stuff.
So I started this blog with the intent of journaling my experience of paring down the mountain of consumerism that is drowning me. Tomorrow? Assessing the junk.
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