Simplify your life in less than thirty minutes!

Yeah, this was sort of a “cheat” post title, but there is some truth to it.  I’ve discovered an amazing secret to simplicity:  Cut six inches off your hair.

Less shampoo, less conditioner, less mousse/gel/insert “product” here.

Less water to wash it.

Less time to take care of it (lots less time to dry).

Less weighing you down.

Less heat smothering your neck in the middle of summer.

If you know and trust a stylist at a reasonably priced chain salon, it can be less money for the cut, too.

And yes, it did take a little less than thirty minutes to have it done.

I suppose it’s not for everyone, but it’s definitely working for me.  🙂

Piles of Ponies

My daughter pulled out her tub of “My Little Ponies” from its cubby the other day.  She dug for awhile, and dug some more; picking out an item here and there.  Soon she was digging with enthusiasm, then frustration, and finally she looked at me sheepishly for permission:  “Can I just dump this?”

“Of course!”

So the box threw up ponies and pony accessories all over the carpet…a crazy pile, a jumbled mass of pink and purple plastic, fake hair, and “furniture.”

It was interesting to watch her deal with the enormous mess.  “Do you wanna see my favorite pony?” she asked.

“Sure!”

She shifted the pile around a bit, and finally pulled out a pegasus, carefully, and showed her to me.  Gently, she set it aside, and searched the pile for the matching crown.  That, too, was pulled out carefully and set apart.  Then she returned to the pile, much less enthusiastically.  Picking up a pony, looking at it, throwing it down again.  Shoving the pile around, pushing things back and forth, picking up another piece and chucking it down again.  The favorite pony was treated with care….the rest, apparently, was just a pile of junk.  Too much, too many, too messy…the whole of it was just overwhelming.

It’s easy for me to look at my kids’ toys and notice the “overwhelming.”  We have so many ponies, legos, doll clothes, markers and colored pencils ….the list goes on and on of the things that I should probably weed through with my children; the things that they truly do play with, but are currently swimming in to the point of drowning.  Then I take a step back and remind myself that I need to set an example in love:  what things am I “swimming in” that need to be discarded or passed on?  What things do I use, yet have too much of?  “Paper” tops the list.  Even though I do my best to stay on top of the ongoing, incoming stream of paper that enters this house, it consistently overpowers me at some point.  Books should probably make the list, too; although I do my best to cull books regularly, and our shelves do have space, I know without a doubt there are more I could let go.

Time to take the plank out of my own eye, so I can help them with the speck in theirs…..

Overwhelming simplicity

I’ve been reading too much lately.  That’s not true, I guess; I don’t think that’s possible.  I’ve been reading too many “simplifying” books recently.  That is true.  There comes a point where you get past good information and great ideas and run, full tilt, and fall off the cliff into a great morass of guilt.  The most recent book I read (which shall remain nameless, since I’m complaining about it) seemed to focus, extensively, on how horrible we Americans are in our consumption; especially compared to the majority of the world.  Which I already know, and hear repeatedly, and get tired of hearing repeatedly, and which frustrates me beyond belief.  Because what can I do about 312 million other people?  Besides feel guilty, I mean.

I can’t do anything about Americans’ excesses.  I know it’s out there, constant excess and consumption and a desire for more; it’s everywhere, and thanks to the creation of the automobile and the interstate system, we’re all doomed…. (Sorry.  Headed for the cliff again.)

I can’t do anything about Americans’ excesses….but I can do something about my family’s.  Here, in this house, this is where I have some modicum of control and can actually do something, and even though it’s unbelievably small, it’s what I can do.  In little babysteps, because it overwhelms me to try to do anymore.

So…babysteps:

We’ve given up drinking pop at home.  (I do still drink it in restaurants…. I love fountain Coke!!)  Do a bit of research on the environmental costs of the creation of soda pop (besides the obvious health costs) and you might give it up, too.

Started making bread, until our bread machine appeared to break.  There was a bit of (more guilt-washed) Do we buy a new bread machine?  I’ll never make bread from scratch on a regular basis…but how can we justify buying a new machine?  Then I fixed the machine myself (yeah, I’m kind of proud of that moment) and I’m back to making bread.  Probably not always, but often.  (Dear Sara Lee:  I’m so glad to see your new bread has no high fructose corn syrup.  Unfortunately I prefer my six-ingredient list to your paragraph.  I’m afraid I won’t be seeing as much of you as I used to…..sorry.)

Quit buying granola bars and cereal bars and started making our own.  (This goes back to the paragraph-long ingredient lists, and my attempt to rid our house of high-fructose corn syrup.)  Our family loves my peanut butter bars; I always have to make a double batch.

Just bought a cheese slicer today (we had an old broken one that we never used) and plan on not buying anymore presliced, individually packaged cheese.  (Gasp!  No more cheese sticks!)  We’ll see how that goes…..

Do I even need to mention recycling?  We’re crazy blessed to have curbside recycling where we live, but I used to store our recyclables and haul them to the center myself.  So glad I don’t have to do that anymore.

Little bit by little bit.  I’ll add to my list as things become habit….it’s a start, at least; even if I never counteract the 312 million other Americans out there.

Deal with it

As I was weeding through piles of papers this morning, I was struck by my train of thought:  Why does this always happen?  How do I get on top of stuff, only to let it bog me down again?  How on earth can I keep up this time?  How do women who work outside the home do it–I’m home constantly and I’m still buried by junk!  How many times will I go through this pile again?

Aha!!  I caught myself, and realized exactly what the problem was.  It was suddenly so clear I felt kind of silly for not seeing it before.  While I do battle the incoming stream of papers and “stuff” that enters this home, 90% of the problem was me:  I was forever putting things aside to deal with later.

I’ll put this here for now.

I don’t have time right now.

I’ll take care of that after _______.

There’s no point in doing “xnow, I’ll do it when I do “y and save some time. (ha.)

I’ll stack these up and take care of them later.

Oh, the list goes on and on…..but it’s all the same.  Procrastination.

The Flylady website designates each Wednesday as “Anti-Procrastination Day,” challenging you to tackle something you’ve been putting off.  I decided this morning (a kid-free surprise) was my Anti-Procrastination morning, and got to work.  (Kid-free mornings are quite hard to come by in the summer.)  The “office” cabinets in my kitchen I am no longer embarrassed to open in front of people, and the laundry room closet was dealt with before it got out of hand.  (I guess that’s progress, right?  To work on it before things are actually falling on my head?)  The most important part:  papers are actually in the recycling bin, and trash is actually bagged and in the garage, ready to be dumped in our cart.  These are, officially, Things I Will Never Have To Weed Through Again.  Thank goodness.

I wonder what else I could get to before the kids get home?

A beautiful basement

We had a big gathering at our home recently, which involved at least six couples and over a dozen children.  It was the “over a dozen children” part that led to some serious basement cleaning.  The original intent was to have the get-together outside, but with a high of 102, the basement playroom seemed a bit more practical for at least some of the evening.

One corner of our basement seems to be “Wii central.”  We have thirty-two Wii games (yes, I counted), which actually doesn’t bother me at all:  they line up neatly in their boxes and sit nice and straight on a little built-in shelf.  There’s something very “small” about them; even if there are thirty-two, they’re compact and contained.  The issue is all our musical instruments.

My kids love, love, playing Rock Band.  We started out with Beatles Rock Band and it seemed to grow from there; between the “Just Dance” series and the “Rock Band” series my children not only know who Tom Jones is but also know all the words to “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots” by the Flaming Lips.  They’re a bit obsessed; especially my son, who would pick playing Rock Band over watching TV any day.  And, consequently, we’ve got a problem.

We have one set of drums, two microphones, a “keyboard,” two Wii guitars, three (real) bass guitars, two (real) amps, and an acoustic guitar.  And about a bajillion cords with each item.  (That part may be a slight exaggeration….)

So when my husband cleaned up the basement, in the interest of keeping our “stuff” safe and making the basement more of a real play space for our visitors, he packed away all the instruments (and cords).

It’s amazing.

It is so beautiful down there, with nothing at all on the floor in front of the TV….just a basket for a few Wii accessories on the cedar chest and that’s it.  I can’t even describe the difference it’s made in the room as a whole, to have all that stuff (especially the cords) packed up and put away.  (I won’t talk about the difference it’s made in the unfinished part of the basement, where they’re being stored….I’m too busy looking at the lovely.)  I’m trying to think, frantically trying to figure out a way that we can keep the corner looking that nice, even if we get out the instruments.  What would it take?  How could we make it work?  How do we store these things where they’re usable, but not taking over?

I haven’t solved it yet.  I need to think quickly….my son is going to want to play Rock Band at some point, and if I’m not careful, we’re going to have a new batch of cord spaghetti cooked up all over the basement floor.  Again.

The slow spread of “stuff”

It’s been a busy few days, after a mostly quiet start to our summer.  We’re starting to settle back into normal after a week of Vacation Bible School (meaning very late nights and sleeping-abnormally-late mornings for my kiddos).  As I sat on the sofa recently I looked around and got the distinct impression that things had gotten a little out of control.

I sit and write about “pursuing enough,” and around me “enough” appears to be stealthily multiplying at night.  The dining room table can’t be seen for the piles of legos and lego buckets.  The library books have escaped their basket and appear to be on every single flat surface downstairs.  My son’s steady stream of artwork and papers have crept from the kitchen counter to a small side table in the kitchen to the kitchen table to the dining room….My daughter’s goody bags from VBS have yet to be dealt with, migrating from her place at the table to the kitchen counter and back again.  The worst part, for me, is that I ruined my beautifully clean laundry room closet with one bag of random junk culled from a drawer in my son’s room (I’ll deal with this later).  That one bag will sprout tentacles and my closet will be unusable in a week; I know it.

I’ve spent my downtime this summer reading books like “Simple Country Wisdom” (charming) and “Simplicity Parenting” (amazing), and yet I currently seem to be back to drowning in the swamp of “stuff.”

Here’s the difference, though:  I now know what to do about it.

I think, before, I would spend a lot of time procrastinating about what to do and how to do it because “it’s going to take forever.”  Actually, it takes about fifteen minutes; or ten minutes, or five minutes–however long I want to devote to the problem.  I set a timer and just do it–because even five minutes of uncluttering is an improvement.  Five minutes gets all the library books rounded up and back where they belong.  Five minutes gets all the papers gathered in a single stack (although admittedly it will take another ten to go through them).  The dining table will be reclaimed eventually, ten minutes at a time.  Some things the kids will help with, and some I’ll take care of myself….but it will get done.  I just have to get up and do it.

On that note…..I guess it’s time to get to work.

“Acquired Traditional”

I joke that our home is furnished in “acquired traditional,” but I truly realized recently that our home really is put together from hand-me-downs.  Not in a sad and decrepit way, but in a “wow, we’ve gotten a lot of furniture from grandparents” kind of way.  My daughter sleeps in my old bed, which was my grandmother’s (on my father’s side) bed.  We have a desk in our front room where I scrapbook, which belonged to my grandmother on my mother’s side.  Even the dishes stacked in our kitchen cabinets belonged to my grandparents.

I was thinking about this recently in light of the idea of “accumulating.” As I started to really evaluate our rooms, I found that often, passed-down furniture outnumbers store-bought furniture; quite drastically, in some cases.  Our front room is a perfect example:  four pieces of furniture; three of which are from family.  The dining room:  four pieces of furniture, counting the table and chairs as one item; again, three of those items are from family.  (Which is why, if pressed, I would give away my table over my corner cabinets.  The table we found at a huge furniture store.  The cabinets were my great-grandmother’s, and come complete with a story attached.)

Why does any of this matter?  Why is this suddenly on my mind?  Because there’s a foreclosure in our neighborhood that’s about $46,200 less than the current mortgage we hold.  The wheels are turning in my brain….could we move?  Should we move?  One of our biggest reasons for not moving again has been to make sure the kids don’t have to change schools; in this case, they’d be staying put, so that excuse is out the window.  So this is a real possibility.  Could we do this?

I’ve driven by the house about five times over the past week.  It’s definitely a “fixer-upper.”  How much of that $46K would end up being spent on “fixing-up?”  It’s listed as a four bedroom, but it’s technically three, plus a bedroom added to the basement.  I’m not a fan of kids sleeping in basement bedrooms….

The list goes on and on, with little “not-quite-right” and “wouldn’t-quite-work” items.  Honestly, though, the biggest problem boils down to our (read: my) hand-me-down “stuff.”  I might not be big on a lot of “stuff,” but the bit I keep is apparently very important to me.  If I don’t have a place to put the piano…or the corner cabinets…or the desk…I don’t think I want the house.

If we ever decide to truly downsize, once the kids are grown and gone, making decisions about what to do away with is going to be exceptionally difficult.  I’m currently choosing to look at the upside of this situation:  I have a beautifully furnished home full of wonderful memories of wonderful people.  As my kids get older, they’ll be hearing stories about these items and learn why they make me smile.

Summertime…

Summer is my least favorite season.  Just as I’m not a “beach person,” like everyone else around me seems to be, I’m also not a “summer person.”  I know that makes me weird, and I’m okay with that.  But I’ve been really irritated with myself lately for dreading summer’s arrival, when there’s actually only one thing I really dislike about it:  the heat.  (Which, yes, can be completely unreasonable at times….but I’m putting that thought away for right now.)

The thing is, there are lots of things I truly like about summer, and I am determined to focus on those this year; to focus on the present and the now and to “fill my summer with summer things.”  (Many thanks to the “My Men and Me” blog for this final bit of inspiration: http://mymenandme.wordpress.com/2011/11/04/not-enough-picnics/ )

Summer blessings:

Quiet, no-rush mornings where we don’t have to scramble to get out the door on time.

Mornings spent in our glider swing:  two kids, one mom, books.

Grilling for dinner.  (Double points for this, since that means my husband is doing the cooking.)

Sitting in the shade chatting with friends at playgroup while the kids run wild…and coming home from playgroup, with sweaty, rosy-cheeked kids, walking into the sweet relief of air-conditioning.

Leaving the library with piles of books.  Often.

Waking up in the sunlight instead of the dark.

Kids running through the sprinkler.

Sidewalk chalk.

The birds enjoying the bounty of our mulberry tree.

Visits to Sylas & Maddy’s ice cream parlor.

Not having to set my daughter’s alarm clock.

Staying home on scorching afternoons with the lights off and the blinds opened just enough to let in some light.  (The kids asked to keep the lights off recently:  “It just feels cooler.”)

Art projects with the kids.

Watching parent birds feeding baby birds, seemingly in every tree in our backyard.

I have until the start of school on August 15th to enjoy these things as much as possible.  I plan on it.

My Paradox

I moved the living room furniture last week, pushing the sofa directly in front of our bay window.  (It’s air conditioner season here, so I don’t anticipate opening the window anytime soon.)  I was completely not expecting the enthusiastic response I got from both my kids, who appeared to be positively thrilled with the new arrangement.  My daughter was actually dancing around the room.  “Why?” I finally asked.  “Why do you like the furniture this way?”

“For our nest!!” my daughter announced.  And, yes, by the next afternoon there was a pile behind the sofa, and the spot was officially dubbed their “nest.”

There are no fewer than nine blankets and six pillows back there.  The amount of stuff in that nook, which is maybe eight feet at it’s very widest point (but it’s a bay, so it narrows to about 3 1/2′), looks ridiculous.  (Actually, to be honest, it looks quite comfy.)  All the blankets and pillows are tumbled and tossed together, in a jumble of chaos where the “dividing line” between my kids’ spaces is vaguely discernable by a color change:  one side is mostly blue, one side is mostly pink.  It’s the definition of “excess.”

But….

If one of the high points of my kids’ summer is the ability to make a “nest;” to snuggle in behind the sofa, in the dappled shade of the trees that grow just outside the window, and read a book; or to just hang out together (as they often do)…..then, isn’t that a definition of simplicity?

Back to Basics

After my post about “How far we’ve come,” I was asked about how I was going to get “back to basics,” what I was going to do to move in the direction of a simpler home.  I could think, immediately, of a few things, but the more I thought about it the more I thought of….so here are some ideas.

First, there’s the obvious:  those moments where I decide that “today I’m going to tackle that drawer…..”  or shelf, or cabinet, etc.  Not an entire closet; just a bite at a time, to make sure I finish what I start.  I’ll go through each item, decide if it’s something we use or if it’s better off blessing someone else, and box or bag up what needs to leave the house.  But that’s only a bit part of the whole.  For lack of a better word, I’m going to call this a “lifestyle adjustment.”  (That sounds really snooty, doesn’t it?  I just mean that there seems to be a need to change how we think about stuff before we can conquer it.)

I also keep brown-paper grocery bags stowed away around the house.  There’s one in our closet, so the minute I try on a shirt I haven’t worn in a while and realize why I haven’t worn it in a while, I can change immediately into something different and add the shirt to the bag.  I keep one in the laundry room closet, so that once I’ve told one of the kids, “Last wearing on those shorts!” (or shirt, or whatever), I can add the item of clothing to the bag the minute it comes out of the wash.  I also have a nice basket on one of the shelves in that closet (about 9×13, and deep), where I put things destined for the thrift store.  This is, admittedly, where fast food toys go to die; but it also holds lots of other things that are preparing to move out the door.

The idea of “one-in-one-out” is gaining ground with the kids; they’ve realized that we’ll take a trip to the used book store if they have a stack of books ready to sell.  This is actually better than one in/one out, since the ratio usually ends up being something like one in/five out; but since they come home with cash they still think they’ve got the better end of the deal.  It’s also become easier with clothing:  we bought you those shoes to replace your worn out ones seems to make a lot of sense to them, and out the trashed ones go.

Finally, though….this is where the “lifestyle adjustment” begins.  I had a friend call recently from a store she was at, offering to pick up water bottles for my kids.  Stainless steel, with the kids’ names on them, on sale for 99 cents.  (99 cents!!)  And I said….no.  Because I know we already have two stainless steel water bottles, one for each kid, plus a Hello Kitty water bottle my daughter kept at school, plus two nice plastic water bottles….you get the idea.  I know we don’t need any more water bottles; regardless of how cool or how cheap (or how thoughtful my friend was).  The reality is, we don’t need a lot of things.  But I have to change my lifestyle; my mindset; my heart about what is a “need” and what is a “want”…..and maybe, at some point, admit where purchasing a “want” might be okay.  I have to change our buying habits; and we weren’t big spenders to begin with.

That’s the hardest part of the process:  the heart change that has to take place to say, “Thank you, Lord, for the abundant blessings you have given me, and now I will be content with that.”  Even better, to say “Thank you, Lord….what would you like me to give away today?  May I be content with less.”