Thursday, August 29, 2013

Inspiration in Adulthood is NOT the Same as That of Childhood

Yesterday I found inspiration in the Facebook status update of a friend.  It read, in part, "Just purged the upstairs playroom, craft room, and the girls bathroom.  I threw away a whole bag of junk."

It occurred to me as I read this that I'd been unhappy with my upstairs closets since we moved in.  I had instantly unpacked the visible stuff, of course, and the general contents of the closets were acceptable, but when it had come to actually unpacking and arranging everything that was tucked away out of sight, that process... had never happened.  It had fallen by the wayside.  In the back of my mind (and in the forefront of my mind every time I opened the closet doors), I knew there were candles I'd never burn again, decorations the kids no longer wanted, pictures that will never be hung on the walls of this house, and just a bunch of stuff that, in general, doesn't need to be here.  The kids' game room closet was in similar shape.

I don't have any 'before' pictures because, really, I don't know anyone who takes pictures of their closets (except that I really do intend to take pictures of the contents of everything in the house one day, just in case, for insurance purposes, because I'm actually paranoid like that), but I do have a couple of 'after' images.

The carnage of empty boxes, trash box, and giveaway/sale items 
All purdy.  It won't stay like that, but for now, all purdy
The kids are working hard on the game room closet.  It's in even more appalling shape than my closets because A) they're kids and B) I told them that as long as the door closed and things were relatively tidy, I wouldn't gripe at them.  But they're making progress.  They're discovering playing cards that they thought were long gone, puzzle pieces they thought they'd never see again, and various unidentifiable items that I'm just not even asking about.  Ostrich Syndrome.  Part of me wants to sneak up and take a picture of them working, but I'm finally ensconced on my couch with a sense of accomplishment and a stomach full of FreeBird and have no desire to move.

All I know is that we're going to make a massive donation to Goodwill soon.  It feels so good to get everything cleaned out and rearranged into 'final' places.  I did the same to a couple of kitchen drawers a couple of weeks ago and that felt good, too.  I never, ever would have felt this way when I was a kid (I'm sure my kids are mentally cursing my name upstairs), but sometimes being an adult means taking pleasure in the little things.  Like clean closets.

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