The beginning: The last straw

Yesterday I missed visiting my sisters, nephew, and niece because of a rough morning with my six-month-old daughter and then my inability to find my car keys. My daughter eventually fell asleep and the keys were soon recovered, but we had already missed out on a fun outing and ice cream with family.

I. was. bummed. And anxious and sad, to be honest.

My car keys, it turned out, were underneath a cutting board and cookie sheet in the kitchen. When I set them there the previous evening, the counter was clean and clear because I actually did the dishes that morning. My husband, helping with dinner later that night, had moved the cutting board and cookie sheet to take our crazy gluten-free pizza out of the oven as I nursed our sweet little grump of a babe in the living room. Who knows if he even noticed them there (they shouldn't have been there in the first place), but it caused a mad search yesterday that I would like to avoid re-enacting in the future.

Anyhow, I think the missing keys were a last straw for me. We have too much stuff. There are three of us living in a 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom urban apartment. Not what most people consider "enough" space for 3 people in the U.S., but really it should be plenty. Everywhere I look, I am overwhelmed by art supplies, half finished crafts, papers (junk mail, art examples for my job, study pages for my husband's job, magazine-clipped articles and recipes, old to do lists, sketches for unfinished projects I have started for my own enjoyment...the list goes on), guitars that don't have a "home" to return to after my husband plays and sings for us, accessories that never made it back to their rightful place, knick-knacks that aren't even noticed or enjoyed anymore because they are covered in dust and mingling with non-decorative clutter. We have not caught up on laundry in at least a year (probably longer, to be honest). We have too many clothes!!

In the year leading up to our wedding, I made a point to get rid of one thing every day. And I succeeded! When the big day rolled around, I had 365 fewer things to move into the new home that we were building together (at that time a 1 bedroom, 1 bathroom teeny, tiny urban apartment) and I felt pretty accomplished. We never got it completely clutter free, though, and then we moved to our current, bigger space a few years later. Oh, with more space, we will be clutter free! we thought. Nope. Our "office" (the spare bedroom at that time) was practically unusable because it became our storage and "oh, crap, people are coming over...where can we put the last of this junk?" room. While we were expecting our daughter, we moved all the junk out and turned it into her nursery.

The result? A beautiful nursery and junk everywhere else. Still. It is not relaxing to be home and it will be very annoying (not to mention dangerous) when our daughter starts to crawl. Let me clarify...we want her to crawl, that won't be annoying, but all of the junk for her to get into = annoying/dangerous.

As of today, Wednesday, July 31, 2013, I have 26 days until I return to my full-time teaching job as an elementary and middle school art teacher. I know it is not realistic to expect a perfectly organized home in 26 days, but now begins the slow purge of clutter. One item a day. Donated, recycled, or trashed. Even if I get rid of more than one item today, I still have to find SOMETHING tomorrow (no I got rid of 7 items today, so I am good for a week business!).

Today's purge: 6 pairs of threadbare and/or paint covered jeans. (Three mine, three my husband's). Why did we still have them? Don't ask me. Into the trash they go!