Yesterday BabyGirl & #1 Son were sent to clean up her room. #1 Son is doing extra chores to make money to buy a Christmas present for someone in his class. I figured helping his sister was worth at least 50 cents.
After 20 minutes of bickering & pestering & a bit of actual work, they came in the living room where I was vacuuming & announced they were done. By done, they meant everything was off the floor. By off the floor they meant most of the stuff that had been on the floor was now piled on her desk. "Clean" is a relative term when you're 8.
Unfortunately the same cannot be said when you're 33.
This morning that meant I had to tackle BabyGirl's desk & closet. Both needed doing in a way an 8 year old simply cannot comprehend. It involved a trash bag. It was cathartic. I love throwing things away. Not all things, just things that have cluttered my home for ages & have little to no sentimental value or usage.
Sunday morning we discovered 90% of her dresses were 6/6x and the child wears a 7/8....so there was some serious thinning that went on there as well. The vast majority of the dresses were hand-me-downs from Art's Syd & will be going back to the land of Art to be handed down to her niece....which is even more cathartic than tossing it all in the trash (which I would have never done anyway). Now her closet is oddly & fabulously uncluttered.
Next is my closet. As long as I'm sneezing, I might as well keep at it. Dust is not my friend & it is always stirred up when you empty a closet. Better to tackle it all at once & keep the misery short & severe as opposed to long & drawn out.
Maybe once that's done, I'll be able to get to my Christmas ornaments....then all that's left is getting Husband to heft the tree out of the utility closet for me.