I am wife to a magnificent man and mother to five wonderful children. Three of my children were born in the Northwest and two were born thousands of miles away in Liberia, West Africa. Birthplace is no matter, all of my children were born in my heart. This is our journey.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Practicing what I preach

In my efforts to train and establish what's expected in our home one thing has become glaringly clear. I cannot expect my kids to organize and care for their things if they do not see me doing the same.

In the house that's fairly easy for me but then again we have a garage and shop to hide those valuable items that we have no idea what to do with inside. Those buildings have become virtual graveyards for mountains of items that we couldn't possibly part with.

Well enough is enough I say! Would you agree? Are you with me? Can I hear a fight cry? All together now!

A mass exodus of chaos, clutter and debris has begun. As well as our house has become organizational central. Pray for me perserverance. The will to continue. Right now the adrenaline is enough but it threatens to wane at any moment.

My garage pantry is now neat and clean, all 300 jars lined up, stacked and waiting for whatever crops we decide to grow this year. The vacuum, carpet cleaner and mop finally have a permanent home. All my pre-digital pictures now have a watertight bin to live in until the day I find three minutes of free time to stuff them into albums.

Isn't it inspiring? It is spring after all. Spring is the time to clear out the closets, free the dustbunnies from their corners, fling open the windows and breathe the fresh air wafting in from the freedom that comes from being clutter free.

My friends, be inspired to shed some of those mind numbing, paralyzing pounds. Nope, not the ones from too much turkey at Christmas. I'm talking about all of the pounds of clutter that invade over the winter and interupt our lives at every turn. You know the ones. Don't let those closet doors be the baggy shirts we wear hoping no one notices that we ate the extra turkey. Yeah, you know what I'm talking about.

The front closet with coats, mittens and perhaps the 257 mates to the lone socks in the laundry room beckons. Now...where did I leave that perserverance?

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