It might have been the collection of mismatched shoes I had to navigate around, or perhaps the living room that appeared to be the aftermath of a chaotic clearance sale at a sporting goods store. It could have been the half-finished art projects, broken crayons, and markers left uncapped all over the kitchen table. Whatever the trigger, one glance at the chaos sent me into a frenzy.
I’ve reached my breaking point. Living with what feels like a family of pack rats is pushing me to my limits. To be fair, I’m not a cleanliness fanatic. I don’t obsess over changing sheets weekly or vacuuming every day, and I have a few science experiments brewing in my fridge. My general approach to household tasks is: Meh, it’s good enough.
But lately, I feel like I’m suffocating under a mountain of clutter. My mind races with thoughts like: Seriously, family, are you trying to drive me mad with all this pointless junk?
Most days, I try to ignore the mess. I step over the shoes piled near the door, avoid the mountains of craft projects, and sidestep the piles of paperwork cluttering the counter. I fight the urge to toss the countless Pokémon cards and baseball cards scattered across every surface right into the trash.
I take a deep breath and try to remind myself that there’s beauty in the chaos (although I often forget what that even means) and channel my inner calm. But then I remember that my Zen has long since left the building, and I’m out of patience because Zen Mom has transformed into Overwhelmed Mom who has completely lost it.
Now, it’s not that I expect my home to resemble a page from a design magazine, nor do I think my children should get by with only a few toys (especially not the trendy ones). But honestly, it would be lovely not to trip over cleats every time I ascend the stairs. It would be wonderful if the kitchen counter was free from the clutter of “art projects” that my child has forgotten about but cannot bear to part with. And it would be fantastic if suggesting the removal of a dust-collecting rock collection didn’t lead to a full-blown tantrum.
There’s just so much stuff. I’m truly drowning in it.
It’s not just the excessive toys, clothes, paperwork, art projects, crayons, and trading cards that seem to multiply right under my nose. It’s also that no one seems to remember to clean up after themselves. Is it really that difficult to toss a snack wrapper in the trash? To carry a plate to the sink—or, heaven forbid, the dishwasher? Is it so hard to place the clothes you just took off into the laundry hamper instead of leaving them on the floor right next to it?
And the shoes! Oh, we need to have a talk about the shoes. Why are there 25 pairs piled by the entrance? We’re a family of four. Four. This is simply unnecessary.
I can’t be the only one feeling this way, right?
While I’m not a full-fledged minimalist, I do aspire to be one. Our home is modest, and we own one vehicle. I daydream about having organized drawers, open spaces, a bathroom counter free from Lego creations, and an entrance that isn’t blocked by a mountain of footwear. I don’t think that’s too much to wish for.
However, despite my B+ minimalist ambitions, somehow we continue to accumulate all this stuff, which breeds into even more clutter until our home resembles a chaotic clearance aisle at T.J. Maxx. And all this unnecessary junk is causing me significant anxiety. Honestly.
I need serious help. Grandparents, how about taking the kids to a museum for their birthdays instead of gifting them the latest trendy toy that will inevitably collect dust in the basement? And teachers, could we switch to emails instead of the endless reams of paper updates? Fellow parents, can we agree to forgo goody bags filled with worthless plastic trinkets after birthday parties?
And to the three other people I share a house with: I know it’s hard to let go of possessions. Trust me, I can justify keeping nearly anything. What if a group of rogue toddlers visits and wants to play with that box of Duplos and old Happy Meal toys we haven’t touched in years? What if Amazon Prime goes down and I need a garlic press or an extra-large wok?
But I’m pretty sure we don’t need those handwritten notes from the fantasy baseball draft three years ago or 357 Matchbox cars. It won’t hurt to throw your wrappers in the trash and take your cup to the sink. Your rock collection can thrive just fine with all the other rocks outside, and those scraps of cut-out paper will make plenty of friends in the recycling bin. Trust me.
Currently, my routine goes something like this: Clean up. Get lazy. Nag my family about their mess. Ignore the chaos for a bit. Nag again. Lose my mind. Rinse and repeat.
This cycle is not sustainable.
Perhaps my family is genuinely oblivious to the mess. Maybe they have a higher tolerance for clutter. Or maybe I’m raising a bunch of wild children. Regardless, something must change. We need to declutter and simplify because our mental health and enjoyment of our home matter more than all this stuff.
For more insights on managing clutter and enhancing your home environment, check out this informative piece on home insemination and explore resources on pregnancy from the CDC.
In summary, while I aspire to a simpler, more organized life, the overwhelming clutter in my home is affecting my peace of mind. I’m determined to take action, engage my family, and create an environment where we can all thrive.