I’ve gotten some interesting feedback from my post about teaching children about hoarding. I wrote how I felt I am failing my daughter by not coaching her on better organizational habits earlier.
I was delighted to read your comments! Thank you to all who took the time to leave a note on the blog or email me in person. You were all reassuring that I haven’t ruined my kids just yet! Phew! There’s still time to teach them about personal organization!
Knee Jerk Reaction
I suppose I’m being extra cautious. Living so close to someone with a mental illness makes you paranoid (wait, isn’t that a mental condition too??? ). Perhaps it’s similar to those with an alcoholic parent and forbidding their own children to ever toast with wine at holiday dinners. I’m probably being hyper-sensitive, but I know I’ve read in several places that compulsive hoarding can be hereditary. Diabetes also strongly runs in the family…some future I’ve got facing me, huh?
Nature vs Nuture
Genetics aside, I think learned behavior goes a long way. I don’t want to go overboard and insist on unattainable perfection. I can’t maintain that myself anyway. But if I can begin to instill the proper techniques for organizing personal space, encouraging attachment to people instead of objects, and how to begin and finish any project, then I think I’ll be giving my girls some great life skills. And hey, it doesn’t hurt to practice them myself, right? I’m sure Will would agree, as he eyes my creatively chaotic craft room.
Your Suggestions for Teaching Kids About Personal Organization
You had some great ideas for helping kids learn about organizing, and learning how to let go of treasured toys.
- take photos of toys before donating them, and put photos in an album to preserve their memory
- designate a set number of keepers. Let them choose which keepers, but don’t go past the number.
- designate a box for toys and don’t let it go past the top. If it doesn’t fit the box, it can’t stay.
- trim pieces from favourite blankets, clothing, or stuffed animals and sew them into a memory quilt or pillow (careful this doesn’t add to your own long list of projects *cough*)
- Remind them of children less fortunate, and encourage a social conscience.
Feel free to keep sending your ideas, and I’ll add them to this list. I’m sure I’m not the only parent in this boat.
I also just came across the Overindulgence website. It discusses dealing with spoiled children, the feeling of entitlement some kids seem to have, and gives a few ideas about giving chores.
My own purge continues
Going back to my craft room for a minute, I worked on clearing that room out, too. Yes, I’ve been on a purging kick the last 2 months and it’s feeling great. I didn’t realize exactly HOW great until I sat down at my sewing machine and did a quick little project. I mentioned this to another creative kindred spirit, my best friend, and she said “Rae, I think that’s how we feed our soul.”
How we feed our soul. Yes. Yes, I think that’s it.
And because my craft room is the dumping ground for when we don’t know where else to put something, I had crowded out my opportunity to feed my soul. And I was starving. Funny how having too much can make you feel so empty.
Have you carved out a space all your own? How do you keep it clear for spontaneous use? I’d love to hear about it!
In case you’re wondering, Mom is still without a phone. We’ve not spoken since I saw her about 3 weeks ago. That seems like a long time to go without hearing from your mother, doesn’t it?
My eldest daughter, Maddie, has been sneezing up a storm. I figured this was a good time to give her bedroom a good deep clean and clear out the dust. When I gently suggested she give away some of her stuffed animals, I was met with great resistance. It’s time I start teaching my children about compulsive hoarding.
How To Start
It started by clearing out all the random stuff that’s been shoved under her bed. It brought up a lot of dust but also helped us find some little toys we thought were lost forever. The pile was a real mixture of things…board games, doll clothes, books, trinkets, and so on. I explained we needed to organize these into piles and put them away. Then I left Maddie to it while I worked on Quinn’s outgrown baby clothes in the next room.
After a few minutes, Maddie called out “Mom, I don’t know what to do with all this.”
It hit me that she probably had no idea how to sort through this random pile and make general categories. It’s one thing to sort by colour, or by size, but when you’re only 7, sorting by purpose is a little confusing.
So, we sat together and I pointed out how board games don’t get stored with books, and doll clothes have their own container. It was starting to make sense when I showed her we actually DO HAVE a place for everything…it’s just that I’d always done the sorting for her in the past. What a disservice I’ve done for her!
Once that pile got sorted out, it was time to look at all the stuffed animals she keeps on her bed. There’s about a dozen stuffies, and she wants them ALL on her bed. I’m thinking they’re a treasure trove of dust and it’s time to simplify.
I held up a stuffed cat. “What do you think about this? Can we give to charity?” With wide eyes, Maddie grabbed the cat and clutched it to her chest. “But I love this!”
Everything Can’t be special
We went back and forth like that with a few other stuffies, and I finally said “You can’t love all of these the same. Surely some are more important than others!” And I think deep down she knows that too, but when faced with the scary thought of parting with any of them, they were elevated to Must Haves.
I was at a loss. I tried to explain that sometimes we have to make tough decisions. That the memories we have can be kept in our heads and we don’t need to keep every thing just to remember. That if everything is special, it really means nothing is.
So far, I’ve been keeping the family’s dirty little secret from my children. Maddie doesn’t know the reason we never visit her grandmothers house is because there’s no room. She has no idea that compulsive hoarding even exists! But I needed to show her, so…
I grabbed the laptop, launched notjustclutter.com and called up the photos from my Visiting a Compulsive Hoarders Home post. I didn’t tell her I took the photos. I didn’t tell her it was Meema’s house. I didn’t even call it compulsive hoarding. But I showed her how little space there was to move around. How you couldn’t see the couch. I pointed out the piles were taller than her head, and there was no room at the dining table for eating. I showed her how food was piled on the kitchen floor with no sense of organized categories.
And everything I pointed out, she met with a rationalization. She had a modified action for everything I said that would allow her to cope with that appalling environment. In short, she didn’t think it was that bad.
Will My daughter become a hoarder, too?
Obviously, I’m failing. Not only have I lost my mother behind her hoard, but I’ve not done enough to develop the right skills for my first daughter. I can see this will be an on-going attempt to teach her how to organize, how to detach emotion from objects, how to truly value certain things and treat them with greater respect, and how to actually clean a home. I’m open to your ideas, so please share your tips for guiding my children away from a future in hoarding.
I’m a Virgo. Most of the time, I’m ok with my home looking well lived in. Children leave toys out mid-game. Craft projects are in progress. And there’s always a DIY home improvement going on somewhere in the house. But when the perfectionist, pragmatic Virgo in me rears her head, I go on major cleaning streaks. I’m talking get-out-the-toothbrush-to-scrub-the-corners Virgo Clean Streak.
Virgo Clean Streak
Every once in a while this happens. Probably not often enough. And by now, Will knows enough to stand back and let me charge full speed ahead. It happened this weekend. I just couldn’t stand the state of our basement any longer. Since I use our 4th bedroom as a craft room/office, we don’t have any where pleasant for guests to stay. And Will doesn’t really have office space of his own, either, which impedes the launch of his new business.
How to decide what to keep and what to toss
We have a whole basement and it was uselessly filled with stuff. So I rolled up my sleeves, put on some tunes, and started working my way through everything as realistically and unemotionally as I could. And you know what? It was easier than expected. I must be at some sort of threshold because what I processed over the weekend had proven too difficult to deal with in earlier attempts to clear the basement. I allowed myself to be honest about whether I really needed or wanted all this stuff. Anything I really wanted to keep went into ONE laundry basket, and everything else went into boxes for donation or garbage bags.
There were a few moments where I wavered and wanted to keep some things. Like my Mom, I can see the “potential” of future projects. But I kept reminding myself that reclaiming this space was more important than vintage sheet music for decoupage, or a stacks of plastic party drinking cups left over from our wedding…9 years ago. I want to transform this space into a place to build memories and experiences. That has more value to me now than dusty boxes of trinkets packed up from our old house and never reopened when we moved here.
As I thought of that, it got easier and easier to move items into the donation boxes and wish them well in their future homes. And the more I let go, the lighter my heart felt. My mood improved. My skin cleared. Well, maybe not, but I certainly felt a glow of accomplishment to see the stack of boxes by the door growing.
What Did I Find?
In the clear out, I found a number of things to give to friends of mine. A book about dogs goes to a co-worker who just got a Huskie puppy. The bassinet that cradled my babies the first few months of their lives is going to a friend expecting his first child next month. And for myself, I found the CD of images I took about 5 years ago at Moms house when Lynn and I snuck in to do a quick “tidy.” I’ll share those in a future post.
In the end, Will and I loaded 11 donation boxes into the car. I filled 2 large bags of trash. I reorganized 7 mishmashed plastic and cardboard boxes of hand-me-down clothes for my little Quinn into 3 locking Rubbermaid containers, and found a whole bunch of baby clothes I didn’t even know we had. That gets shared with another co-worker having a baby girl in October.
There’s still some stuff to shuffle around and reorganize. I’m sure I could purge even more if I get another Virgo Clean Streak. Will needs to pack up all his wine-making supplies for a while. There’s a cold cellar to rip out and move to a different area. And if we can clean enough open space, we’ll frame in new walls to make new office space and accommodations for guests. Put up shelves to get what’s left up off the floor. Wall off the furnace. Ultimately, make this a warm and inviting space to spend quality time. And as much potential all that stuff had, the potential of the space is even greater.
Getting rid of all that stuff was SO liberating. I feel like I lost 100 pounds. In fact, I put on my skinny jeans to celebrate!
I follow a blog called Nesting Place. I read all sorts of fun tips on decorating my home inexpensively, and how to appreciate something for it’s beauty, not it’s perfection. It’s truly a lovely blog. Today I read a post by “The Nester” titled Why I’m Not Having a Garage Sale This Year.
It made me consider the state of my basement. Ahh, yes, the basement. The graveyard of unwanted, but too good to be thrown out toys/clothes/small appliances/decorations/furniture/et all. My husband and I are determined to finish it next year. To do so means having to clear out all the stuff stored there. I try to go through it somewhat often. Sometimes it’s easy. It’s been gratifying to clear out baby items to another family who needed them. I was glad to share some books I know I’ll never read again.
But other times….
I see the ‘potential.’ There’s a dangerous word, huh? It means finding a reason to let something go is dang near impossible unless you’re steel-hearted. I have an armoire of craft supplies in the basement. Mom’s original sewing machine. A pristine baby bassinet. A cappuchino maker, 2 regular coffee makers, and probably soon, a Tassimo. And, of course, countless other items. All of this stuff is in such great shape I can’t bear the thought of just throwing it out or shoving it in those parking lot charity bins. I think “This should be sold at a garage sale…at least get a couple bucks for it.” Back in the basement it goes, sitting quietly and hoping to go unnoticed the next time I’m in a purging mood.
We’ve had a number of garage sales. They’re such a pain to run. You spend days organizing the stuff. You get out petty cash and save plastic bags. Then you sit in the baking sun while people sniff through your things and insult you with “Would you take a quarter for this item clearly worth $5?”
We made $70 at our last sale. And didn’t clear out as much as I wanted. I mentioned some of the items that didn’t sell in my post about clearing out the garage. That’s right…the stuff that was formerly of the basement, just got shuffled from the driveway back into the garage. It’s been there a whole year!
The next time I hit the basement, I’m really going to aim to be ruthless. It’s got to go if I want to live my life in my house the way I want. I’m not going to hang on to anything any more with the plan to sell it at a garage sale. The space is more valuable to me than the money earned from doing so, and in the mean time, like the Nester, I’ll be careful about the little items I bring home that end up in the garage sale pile anyway.