If you know me at all, you will know that I am a complete lunatic when it comes to organization. I try to be organized in everything I do. Some of it came out of necessity as I have misplaced important things or missed important deadlines, some of it is hereditary (hate to admit it but I have grown up to be like my mother) and some it just because I like it. Okay, maybe like is a little bit soft, I am obsessed, consumed with it. My life is as full as it gets with 4 kids (all boys) who play different sports in different towns, a full time job, a toddler and a husband who has a lot of hobbies (I am either a golf widow or hockey widow depending on the season). If I wasn't organized I might spend most days in bed, under the covers feeling completely overwhelmed.
This is not to say that I am successfully organized all the time, which as you might imagine makes me want to crawl out of my skin. Now, if it was just me, living alone in my beautiful house, it would be perfectly decorated, cleaned and organized all the time. Better Home and Gardens could stop by anytime unannounced and get their cover shot. But alas, I have four boys and a husband who do not share my love of cleanliness. In fact, if I did not point out the mess, they might never see it (opting to walk over their school bag left in the middle of the kitchen floor instead of picking it up). And if I should actually get them to clean or pick up, I admit that it isn't the way I would do it and I end up fixing it anyway.
My ultimate goal it to have my house picked up and organized perpetually which I was successful at for a couple weeks, and then school started. Now it's true that the kids aren't around as much as they were in the summer, but when they are home they are always in a rush to get somewhere else. This is when the tornado hits. Things are thrown everywhere - dirty clothes on my kitchen island, shoes in the dining room, school bags right where I can trip on them. And then the questions begin, "where is my ---- (insert something they are sure they can't live without but apparently not important enough to keep tabs on it cause that is my job)?" While I think I'm funny by saying, "I don't know, it's not mine." They do not share my amusement and are less than enthusiastic about going to look for it. So instead of taking the five minutes to actually find it, they would rather incite a riot by yelling, screaming and insisting I get it. I am a stubborn woman and this typically doesn't work out in their favor and they end up 20 minutes late for wherever they need to be, which of course is also my fault.
And it's not just our living space, it's our entire lives. There are school functions, homework assignments, sporting events and practice for two different sports, 3 fundraisers per kids at the same time and "is their favorite pair of jeans clean"(the ones that look exactly like the 4 others in their drawer) to keep track of. Add my full time job and multiply that by three tweens, a 20 month old and a husband. Seriously?!
So, while my goal might be lofty, I just can't give up. I read somewhere that the reason clutter stresses me out is because it makes me feel out of control. The longer I look at the mess, the more anxious I get. So now I know why (in addition to the lost time and arguments over where everything is and why can't anyone else pick up after themselves), what I need to figure out how - how to make it better. I am tired of yelling, of talking to myself and of wanting to pretty kill my entire family three times a day. I figure I must start with a clean slate, which might take me a while. My short term goal is to de-clutter my house with the motto "a place for everything and everything in its place." Then 15 minutes before bed and school every day, I will mandate a pick up time, my husband included. I am sure this will not be something my family takes on with open arms, but what the hell - it will make me happy. Maybe it will even leave me some time to make lunches the night before, yeah right!