The journey from fat to fit. Road trip, woo hoo!

Who says clutter is ALL bad? I’ve been reading a book by the “Clean Sweep” guy called “It’s all too much.” And it’s about de-cluttering your house, your life, your soul. I bought the book with the intention of motivating myself to address the “issues” in my bedroom, which is now also half my office. And my craft storage area. And ironing area. Oh, and there’s a table and chairs in there for working and eating and such. The room is a disaster.

It’s a huge space, converted attic, with sloping ceilings and dormers and whatnot, which all sounds much cooler than it actually is. Did I mention it’s a disaster?

Anyway, since we had a party on Sunday I decided that my decluttering and cleaning efforts would be best focused on the “public” areas of the house where the party would be happening. So Saturday I spent SEVEN HELLACIOUS HOURS cleaning my living room, dining, room, kitchen, pantry, mud room, family room, guest room (AKA poker room) and two bathrooms. I thought I was going to die. I wanted to die. But I didn’t die.

It was a family affair with everyone doing their part, which makes it on the one hand so much better and on the other hand SO MUCH WORSE as children are squabbling and DH is being all ADD on his tasks and all over the place not focusing and making me crazy. The end result was two garbage cans of crap out for the trashman and two SUV loads of still usable crap to Goodwill.

But back to the book… the book wanted me to get rid of EVERYTHING. I mean, EVERYTHING. If you aren’t using it, toss it. If it’s a keepsake but you’re not proudly displaying it, toss it. I hate tossing. I like keeping. And the one thing that everyone who knows me knows about me is that I like my stuff. I love my stuff. Don’t touch my stuff. That’s mine. Leave it alone.

So if I had followed the advice in the book, I would have tossed my old dishes when I got new dishes. BUT then on Easter Sunday, when I served dinner on my beautiful new service for 16 and needed three more plates, I would have been screwed, wouldn’t I, if I couldn’t whip out three of the old dishes! Aha! I TOLD you I should keep them and, look, I was right! Wine glasses? You don’t think I need ALL of those wine glasses? Well, again, Aha! If I don’t need so many, why did they all end up in the dishwasher by the end of the night, huh? And how about that Last Supper table cloth I miraculously whipped out of the basement at the last minute? Would Easter dinner have been the same without that? I think not.

Same goes for the 200 plastic eggs, the extra baskets that I didn’t toss last year and used for nieces and nephews this year, the giant crate o’ crafting goodies that kept kids busy the entire freaking day.  Same goes for the extra knitting needles and yarn that I have in bins that I can send people home with every time I teach someone how to knit.

So while I feel good that we did a lot of cleaning and organizing and got rid of a lot of junk, I also feel vindicated about the stuff I hang on to when the rest of the family is chanting “toss it, toss it, toss it.” And I’m buried in my stuff (like the photo) and 60 Minutes cameras are at the door to feature me on the next hording episode, I’m going to continue to protect my stuff to the end.