There is a gigantic, black garbage bag in my bedroom, stuffed in a corner between the dresser and the window on that wall. Continue reading
A few weeks ago I was depressed. I couldn’t see beyond the stuff, the mess, the clutter, and school hadn’t even started yet.
My basement has potential but the problem is always time. There is never time….so I bring the bin with the summer clothing downstairs and since I would have to move shit from this place to that place to get to the spot where I want to store the bin, I just leave the bin there, for later.
Until it’s too late and then hell breaks loose. Continue reading
Or more correctly, the week after Christmas. Because of the stuff, you see.
Know what I mean?
There is nothing like coming back from a high-maintenance vacation (i.e. camping) that makes the house look similar to Boxing week. There are bins and piles of stuff all over the basement that need to be packed back up and put somewhere.
Where, is the question. Because I seem to be having less, not more, space.
Anyway, I’m looking to purge again. And maybe move the camping stuff to my parents’ basement (unless they have disowned me by then) once we take the hockey gear back (which we don’t need now, hence it is housing over there). Seriously…this is getting old.
Anyway, I do what I can. Which is ignore the mess and take the kids to family swim. Nothing else makes sense in this endless heat.
There is something mildly irritating about having steps in one’s house. We don’t have them going up, but we have them going down. Hence, when I place certain items (from large impossible to ignore laundry baskets to tiny toys like lego) directly in front of the steps, one would think the next person who descends into the family rec room would pick up some item, particularly if one has to either move, or step over it, and carry it down into the abyss.
But alas, this is not the case.
Ok, so the 4yo doesn’t technically have to remember (yet), but I’m trying to train her that if the toy resembles something belonging to her (Strawberry Shortcake comes to mind) perhaps she could, on her way down there, take it with her and place it in the drawer?
The almost 7yo…he is of the male persuasion so perhaps it’s a thing that renders him to not see things he steps over. He will do it if reminded but that requires me to hover near the steps, so I may as well just take the item down myself than to enter arguments and negotiations.
But the other adult…well he does remember most of the time. AND he does ALL the laundry on the weekend so technically if he’s busy carrying baskets up and down the steps he is allowed to step over or move other items I stack there. Still, it sometimes does boggle my mind when I see from the corner of the kitchen a physical hip-movement to make a passable path past the stacked boxes or bins without an attempt to pick one up. Maybe it’s my fault, because ultimately there is no designated place to put it down there unless it’s a specific item such as a toy or a book. If it’s a bin or a box, even I don’t always know where to deposit it when I get there.
Let’s chalk it up to a quirk and move on.
So much so that I started a new blog with a neighbour:
Time will tell if we can practice what we preach. Today I came up with 6 easy steps on how NOT to start the cleanup, and I’m currently stuck on step 5…
Every year I go through this. I think of what it would have been like had we moved, had we renovated differently, had we bought more functional furniture, but alas, I am not alone. Not in this neighbourhood. We all share similar complaints: the houses are old, they are not built for today’s contemporary lifestyles full of electronic gadgets, they don’t have enough closet space, insulation, space..
But as one of my family members pointed out the other day, our house may be small, but it’s a happy house. The kids are happy surrounded by their stuff, and I…well, I’m stuck on step 5.
Happy Boxing day! Try not to shop for more stuff (is my advice).
This is only part of the reason.
We spent Christmas eve at my parents’ place and got all this stuff. We had to leave the dog there for an extra day. Poor Rusty. Not that he minds…he loves it there. No babies crying, no kids making strange and loud noises, no toys flying through the air…only peace and quiet with two seniors and a cat.
Maybe I’ll stay behind next time…
Then we went to the other side of the family for Christmas day and got more stuff.
Which is all fine, since none of the stuff was junk. The kids got great toys and nice outfits. Nothing needs returning or exchanging.
But this is adding to my never-ending dilemma on how to store stuff. Because of this:
I will have all kinds of nice new big deep closets when the renovations are done. But until then…bins.
That is my new four-letter word.
But they serve their purpose, those bins. The good quality ones could technically speaking be stored outside on the porch in the middle of a blizzard, should it come to that. It hasn’t yet but you never know.
But…there is progress…
Taping has begun. Yay.
PS so now I will also need a new mop, more Swiffer stuff, and a case of wine to get me through the next few weeks.