Join in the discussions at Minnesota Mom and Waltzing Matilda concerning the battle over clutter (and visit Small Treasures and drool over the lack of clutter at Kristen’s house! She amazes me… she truly does…)
This will always be a struggle for me. I detest visual clutter, and being a stay-at-home mom of 6+ ENSURES that there will always be stuff “out of place.”
I long for a peaceful, tranquil home and wonder how my home can ever be that way.
I envy moms who have larger houses, who have luxuries like, oh, a coat closet… or a linen closet… or a basement.
My mom kept an immaculate home but, as she always reminds me, she didn’t have us at home all day, AND her houses were always substantially bigger. Everything HAD a home.
I don’t want to be a toy Nazi.
I’m glad that my kids create amazing things out of blocks and Legos and bionicles. I am thrilled that drawing at the kitchen table is a “many times a day” occurence. I rejoice in my boys setting up elaborate wooden train tracks… or my girls enjoying a day of dress-up…
…but is it wrong to just want to have a place for all this?
We’re in the process now of trying to add on, so that we can finally have a bit of breathing space here. Unfortunately, after talking to the bank, I didn’t get the news I wanted to hear (are interest rates really THAT high???), so we’re going to have to scale down on what we are able to do.
I’m sorry this post is heading downward. I know there are so many more important things in life to be concerned about. I know that God has promised to meet all our needs. I know He wouldn’t give us all these children and then fail to provide for them.
But sometimes I lay awake at night and ask Him, “are we on the same page as to what my “needs” are?”
I don’t think we are.
So, it’s the never-ending struggle for me. Needing space to breathe… not having it… trying to pare everything down to live more simply… trying my darndest not to burst into tears or scream out of pure jealousy when I see people with larger homes who can put everything away easily.
A dear friend of mine once told me that “we pick our luxuries.” Our luxury is our children, and I am truly SO grateful for them. I just need to remember that the next time I step on Legos, or cry out in utter frustration over the plastic “coat box” that sits in the middle of our floor.
This will end one day. May God give me the grace to handle this all… well, gracefully!… so that my children will have a blessed home life, filled with laughter, joy, and peace… that they won’t remember the clutter, but instead remember the magic of their childhood.