Today I didn't fill a trash bag or recycling bin with a significant number of things in my decluttering process (primarily since we had several errands to run in town and were thus gone a large part of the day, so I wasn't here to go through much). But it was still a big day for letting things go.
I joined the TY Beanie Baby craze in junior high and ran with it for several years. I was one of the many suckers who thought these things were worth their weight in gold and bought up the rare ones, complete with plastic cases and tag protectors. Of course, hindsight is 20/20 and we all know how nonvaluable these things are now. Lesson learned: if it's a fad, it's not a collector's item.
I mentioned before that I'm kind of a frugal freak. I don't drop large amounts of money without some serious thought. So when I bought some of these toys, though I was a teenager at the time, they were purchases I never thought I'd part with. Cut to now. Thank God I don't remember exact prices paid for these things, because I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to get rid of any of them. But I am. I'm giving away a bag, and another bag is moving to my classroom (mostly holiday and international bears--I figure they could come in handy when I teach world music and celebrations). I'm keeping the cats and dogs (always my favorites) and a few others that I think my son might enjoy playing with. And all the big plush toy versions, because they're huggable and kid friendly and will make good additions to Taven's toy collection.
In addition to this minor victory in letting go, I sent my parrot Mango off to his new (hopefully for good) home today. There's a long story behind this, but in the interest of brevity I'll just say I've had the bird less than a year but still got attached to him, much to my own dismay (so not a bird person, thank you very much). He got possessive of me, which isn't safe with a baby on the way, so we found him a home with a friend and former boss who is a real bird lover and who I hope and pray is able to bond with him. I hate goodbyes, even to a bird, so it was an emotionally draining day.
So now I'm thinking I will go through one more bin, try to throw away some inconsequential items, then detox from this day with something relaxing or fun. I bought Manic Panic in Shocking Blue to put in some semi-perm streaks for camp, so maybe that will be on the agenda. I may even make some ice cream. I have fresh strawberries and peaches and a new ice cream maker. Sounds like a plan to me. Jumping back on the purging wagon tomorrow.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Decluttering, day 2
Today I tossed:
- Awards and certificates from throughout my school years (took pictures of first place stuff so I won't forget)
- things I shouldn't have kept to scrapbook in the first place (e.g. All the bubblegum wrappers I emptied during a game at a BCM event; a fingerpainting from Summer Serve)
- letters from a college pen pal program when I was in 3rd grade
- piles of drawings from campers and students years ago
- a Christmas card stamping kit I've had for longer than I can remember (Goodwill is getting it; the stamps are still in fine condition and some kid might like it)
- event programs out the wazoo
- scrapbook pages of movie and concert tickets dating back to 1995 (The Babysitters' Club, when movies cost $3.75 to see). I took pictures for amusement's sake.
- some kitchen gadgets I didn't use to begin with (to Goodwill)
- a few decorative and/or holiday things we got as gifts years ago
- bedding odds and ends--cause guess what. There is no earthly reason to have as many sets of sheets as we do. (I am still wrestling with the idea of cutting up some of the tshirt knit sheets to use as cleaning rags and/or burp cloths... This is where I struggle with finding the line between sensible repurposing and packratting.)
I kept:
- photos and relevant scrapbooking things (e.g. pages already made)
- a reader's theater script from high school (to be typed and saved, then paper copy trashed)
- report cards from 5th and 6th grade (I always liked looking at my mom's old report cards, which tells me this might be relevant one day)
- most stuff to scrapbook from my senior trip (sorry, but I've only done NYC once and I made memories I'd like to keep. I think I've earned this one.)
- serving pieces we got as wedding gifts. I use them two or three times a year, but that's the point--I do use them. I like being able to pull out a nice vase or trifle dish or cake stand when the odd occasion calls for it, and I hope to do more entertaining at home that would call for it, now that I'm in a new place with more room.
I wish I had a whole month free to get all this done at once. However, I don't think I'll ever have a month free at one time ever in my foreseeable future, so I'll be happy with what I can do this week and in whatever time I can steal throughout the summer.
On a completely unrelated note, I am pretty much in love with country life after just a few days back in it. I also adore this house. The windows are enormous and let in the perfect amount of natural light, and it's so quiet, not a neighbor in view. And I had forgotten about fireflies, living in the suburbs for so long. Turns out they just don't come out as much there. There are so many outside my house right now that it's borderlining on being an Owl City song. Srsly.
I'm quite content today. That pretty much sums it up. Looking forward to another productive day to follow.
- Awards and certificates from throughout my school years (took pictures of first place stuff so I won't forget)
- things I shouldn't have kept to scrapbook in the first place (e.g. All the bubblegum wrappers I emptied during a game at a BCM event; a fingerpainting from Summer Serve)
- letters from a college pen pal program when I was in 3rd grade
- piles of drawings from campers and students years ago
- a Christmas card stamping kit I've had for longer than I can remember (Goodwill is getting it; the stamps are still in fine condition and some kid might like it)
- event programs out the wazoo
- scrapbook pages of movie and concert tickets dating back to 1995 (The Babysitters' Club, when movies cost $3.75 to see). I took pictures for amusement's sake.
- some kitchen gadgets I didn't use to begin with (to Goodwill)
- a few decorative and/or holiday things we got as gifts years ago
- bedding odds and ends--cause guess what. There is no earthly reason to have as many sets of sheets as we do. (I am still wrestling with the idea of cutting up some of the tshirt knit sheets to use as cleaning rags and/or burp cloths... This is where I struggle with finding the line between sensible repurposing and packratting.)
I kept:
- photos and relevant scrapbooking things (e.g. pages already made)
- a reader's theater script from high school (to be typed and saved, then paper copy trashed)
- report cards from 5th and 6th grade (I always liked looking at my mom's old report cards, which tells me this might be relevant one day)
- most stuff to scrapbook from my senior trip (sorry, but I've only done NYC once and I made memories I'd like to keep. I think I've earned this one.)
- serving pieces we got as wedding gifts. I use them two or three times a year, but that's the point--I do use them. I like being able to pull out a nice vase or trifle dish or cake stand when the odd occasion calls for it, and I hope to do more entertaining at home that would call for it, now that I'm in a new place with more room.
I wish I had a whole month free to get all this done at once. However, I don't think I'll ever have a month free at one time ever in my foreseeable future, so I'll be happy with what I can do this week and in whatever time I can steal throughout the summer.
On a completely unrelated note, I am pretty much in love with country life after just a few days back in it. I also adore this house. The windows are enormous and let in the perfect amount of natural light, and it's so quiet, not a neighbor in view. And I had forgotten about fireflies, living in the suburbs for so long. Turns out they just don't come out as much there. There are so many outside my house right now that it's borderlining on being an Owl City song. Srsly.
I'm quite content today. That pretty much sums it up. Looking forward to another productive day to follow.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Decluttering my life
This weekend my husband and I moved out of our "starter home" in the suburbs and into a farm house we will be renting from very good friends for a while before we buy it. (Side note: please pray our old house sells quickly.)
I am already a creature of habit and do not like change, so the move was difficult in that regard. I get way too attached--to people, to places, to things, to routines. I haven't moved a lot in my life, and those few times have been serious emotional turmoil (yes, I'm being over dramatic, but that's what it's felt like each time). Little did I realize how my tendency to attach would make this transition even more difficult.
I am a packrat. Third generation born and raised. There is nothing cute about it, I'm now realizing--hopefully not too late to fix it. I grew up staying a lot with my dear wonderful Granny whom I love so very much, and she was part of the generation that lived through the depression and learned to hang onto things for meager times. They had a good excuse. I learned to find comfort in clutter, I think, partly because she had so many little odds and ends and trinkets that she would keep, either for sentimental value or for a rainy day or simply because they'd always been there and had become part of the scenery. And I was comfortable and at home in her house, thus in that environment.
My mom wasn't nearly as intense, but I still remember her occasionally calling herself a packrat; I think her reasons for hanging onto things were more out of sensible frugality than anything else. If it could be fixed, altered, repurposed, or given away to someone who could use it, that was being a better steward of things than just throwing it away. That makes sense.
Then comes me.
I don't know when it started. I've always been comfortable in clutter, and it truly has never consciously bothered me. I have joked about my "organized clutter" numerous times and laughed off the fact that, yes, there are twelve piles of paper on this table, but I can tell you exactly where everything is within those piles! I was one of those kids who had to be constantly ridden and nagged to clean up my room. It wasn't necessarily dirty, just unorganized and full of... just stuff. I collected various things over the years--dolls, figurines, jewelry, Beanie Babies, bottles of a few kinds, shells, nail polish, CDs, t-shirts, books--and those things compile and take up space and collect dust, and the dusty piles become things you just block out and want to forget about. So you forget them and leave them in their dark corners, only to move on to some new collection that will inevitably take up space in some opposite corner, thus repeating the cycle. Then before you know it, you're moving boxes of your clutter to new phases of your life for no good reason other than that they've always been there and you're attached and it feels like an amputation of part of yourself to get rid of them.
(takes a breath.) You know, just generally speaking.
I moved my stuff, my clutter--years of it--to college with me, then into our first apartment when we got married, then into our first house, and much of it followed me to this new house. And guess what.
It. Is. Exhausting.
I'm just now beginning to have my eyes opened to the fact that stuff weighs people down. It seems a lot of people have been enlightened to this fact already and I'm one of the last to catch on. And I'm sure people have tried telling me this before, and I didn't listen, because I'm a Taurus and I'm stubborn.
I started throwing some things out before we moved, so there would be less to move and because I was starting to get clued in to the idea tht I really didn't need all this stuff. For me, being the emotionally attached person I am, it was a big deal to throw away every student/camper drawing I've vet been given, or every piece of clothing associated with a memory. And having picked up on my mom's frugal tendencies (and taken them to the extreme), I didn't want to toss anything I'd gotten free or at a good deal. But I started to. I felt like I was making progress.
Since we got everything moved, I've made more baby steps (which to me feel like leaps) toward a simpler, less cluttered life. Today I purged a scrapbook-stuff box of all the cards we received at our wedding. Yes, I was still holding onto them. No, I'm not entirely sure why. I wanted to scrapbook them, and each of them had some emotional value, but I realized how ridiculous it was to keep hanging onto things that don't matter in the long run.
Here's to small victories as I clear out my life of junk and make room for the new life that will soon be a large part of mine. No, it's not easy to let go, but it's necessary and healthy. I'm learning. I'm progressing. I'm getting there.
I am already a creature of habit and do not like change, so the move was difficult in that regard. I get way too attached--to people, to places, to things, to routines. I haven't moved a lot in my life, and those few times have been serious emotional turmoil (yes, I'm being over dramatic, but that's what it's felt like each time). Little did I realize how my tendency to attach would make this transition even more difficult.
I am a packrat. Third generation born and raised. There is nothing cute about it, I'm now realizing--hopefully not too late to fix it. I grew up staying a lot with my dear wonderful Granny whom I love so very much, and she was part of the generation that lived through the depression and learned to hang onto things for meager times. They had a good excuse. I learned to find comfort in clutter, I think, partly because she had so many little odds and ends and trinkets that she would keep, either for sentimental value or for a rainy day or simply because they'd always been there and had become part of the scenery. And I was comfortable and at home in her house, thus in that environment.
My mom wasn't nearly as intense, but I still remember her occasionally calling herself a packrat; I think her reasons for hanging onto things were more out of sensible frugality than anything else. If it could be fixed, altered, repurposed, or given away to someone who could use it, that was being a better steward of things than just throwing it away. That makes sense.
Then comes me.
I don't know when it started. I've always been comfortable in clutter, and it truly has never consciously bothered me. I have joked about my "organized clutter" numerous times and laughed off the fact that, yes, there are twelve piles of paper on this table, but I can tell you exactly where everything is within those piles! I was one of those kids who had to be constantly ridden and nagged to clean up my room. It wasn't necessarily dirty, just unorganized and full of... just stuff. I collected various things over the years--dolls, figurines, jewelry, Beanie Babies, bottles of a few kinds, shells, nail polish, CDs, t-shirts, books--and those things compile and take up space and collect dust, and the dusty piles become things you just block out and want to forget about. So you forget them and leave them in their dark corners, only to move on to some new collection that will inevitably take up space in some opposite corner, thus repeating the cycle. Then before you know it, you're moving boxes of your clutter to new phases of your life for no good reason other than that they've always been there and you're attached and it feels like an amputation of part of yourself to get rid of them.
(takes a breath.) You know, just generally speaking.
I moved my stuff, my clutter--years of it--to college with me, then into our first apartment when we got married, then into our first house, and much of it followed me to this new house. And guess what.
It. Is. Exhausting.
I'm just now beginning to have my eyes opened to the fact that stuff weighs people down. It seems a lot of people have been enlightened to this fact already and I'm one of the last to catch on. And I'm sure people have tried telling me this before, and I didn't listen, because I'm a Taurus and I'm stubborn.
I started throwing some things out before we moved, so there would be less to move and because I was starting to get clued in to the idea tht I really didn't need all this stuff. For me, being the emotionally attached person I am, it was a big deal to throw away every student/camper drawing I've vet been given, or every piece of clothing associated with a memory. And having picked up on my mom's frugal tendencies (and taken them to the extreme), I didn't want to toss anything I'd gotten free or at a good deal. But I started to. I felt like I was making progress.
Since we got everything moved, I've made more baby steps (which to me feel like leaps) toward a simpler, less cluttered life. Today I purged a scrapbook-stuff box of all the cards we received at our wedding. Yes, I was still holding onto them. No, I'm not entirely sure why. I wanted to scrapbook them, and each of them had some emotional value, but I realized how ridiculous it was to keep hanging onto things that don't matter in the long run.
Here's to small victories as I clear out my life of junk and make room for the new life that will soon be a large part of mine. No, it's not easy to let go, but it's necessary and healthy. I'm learning. I'm progressing. I'm getting there.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Loss and Life
When you get married, you join and commit yourself not only to that person but to his or her entire history and future, and that includes family. I wonder how many people realize the seriousness of that before entering the commitment. You're doubling your family in a day, essentially.
I'm fortunate to have been accepted into my husband's family (now mine) with open arms by all. And I love them. But doubling your family means not only doubling the love you receive, but also the loss you will inevitably experience. That's bittersweet.
Today we will honor the memory of my husband's grandmother. It has been a really rough weekend since her passing early Friday morning. I was blessed to grow up with two living sets of grandparents, but MaMa was the only grandparent Scott ever knew. And she was so influential in the lives she touched, so the pain of this loss is extra strong.
In her last few weeks, she asked Patricia (Scott's mom) to tell us that she was headed into the sunset and our baby was headed toward the sunrise. While I hate that she didn't get to meet this new little life and that her own ended so closely before his... There's almost comfort in knowing she *knew*--not just that he was coming, but that, in a sense, they were trading places.
I've been reading Tuck Everlasting with my students this semester, a novel that discusses the ideas of life, immortality, and death. It's suggested therein that, though it's sad and we hate and often fear it, death is a natural part of the wheel of life, right next to being born; that old life must leave to make room for new. It seems in Scott's family, this pattern is almost always true--death and new life come paired together. I have mixed feelings about this. It's selfish, but I even don't like the fact that my child's birth will be, in a sense, less happy an occasion because it will follow so soon after Belle's passing. People may associate the two and it might make them sad.
I guess there's comfort in knowing she knew he was going to be named after her late husband (Perry--Taven's middle name). I know that tickled her. But I'll always hate that they never met. Not in this life, anyway.
Belle was a wonderful woman whose life deserves to be celebrated, and I hope we will keep doing so anytime the family gets together. I'm thankful for the new life God is sending our way to celebrate even I'm the shadow of loss. He's good that way.
Written 4-15
(Finished later)
I'm fortunate to have been accepted into my husband's family (now mine) with open arms by all. And I love them. But doubling your family means not only doubling the love you receive, but also the loss you will inevitably experience. That's bittersweet.
Today we will honor the memory of my husband's grandmother. It has been a really rough weekend since her passing early Friday morning. I was blessed to grow up with two living sets of grandparents, but MaMa was the only grandparent Scott ever knew. And she was so influential in the lives she touched, so the pain of this loss is extra strong.
In her last few weeks, she asked Patricia (Scott's mom) to tell us that she was headed into the sunset and our baby was headed toward the sunrise. While I hate that she didn't get to meet this new little life and that her own ended so closely before his... There's almost comfort in knowing she *knew*--not just that he was coming, but that, in a sense, they were trading places.
I've been reading Tuck Everlasting with my students this semester, a novel that discusses the ideas of life, immortality, and death. It's suggested therein that, though it's sad and we hate and often fear it, death is a natural part of the wheel of life, right next to being born; that old life must leave to make room for new. It seems in Scott's family, this pattern is almost always true--death and new life come paired together. I have mixed feelings about this. It's selfish, but I even don't like the fact that my child's birth will be, in a sense, less happy an occasion because it will follow so soon after Belle's passing. People may associate the two and it might make them sad.
I guess there's comfort in knowing she knew he was going to be named after her late husband (Perry--Taven's middle name). I know that tickled her. But I'll always hate that they never met. Not in this life, anyway.
Belle was a wonderful woman whose life deserves to be celebrated, and I hope we will keep doing so anytime the family gets together. I'm thankful for the new life God is sending our way to celebrate even I'm the shadow of loss. He's good that way.
Written 4-15
(Finished later)
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Five days
This Friday is our gender ultrasound. I do believe this will likely be the second longest five days of my life, second only to my due date.
Scott and I talked last night about how nice it will be to start talking to the baby in utero. The earliest I've read he/she might be able to hear is 18 weeks, so we have another month on that, but still. Knowing what the baby is and being able to call it by its name... I think that will just help to make it all real.
There have only been a couple of "real" moments, really. When the doctor called with the results of my hcg test and confirmed the pregnancy, I cried, because official results rather than the at-home test seemed to make it real.
The other defining moment was the first ultrasound. I half expected a blank picture to come up onscreen, for the tech to say, "there's no baby in here; what were you thinking?!" But then I saw it, wiggling around and waving and kicking and very much real and alive. I teared up then, too.
I can't wait to see more of this little person who's about to change my entire world.
Scott and I talked last night about how nice it will be to start talking to the baby in utero. The earliest I've read he/she might be able to hear is 18 weeks, so we have another month on that, but still. Knowing what the baby is and being able to call it by its name... I think that will just help to make it all real.
There have only been a couple of "real" moments, really. When the doctor called with the results of my hcg test and confirmed the pregnancy, I cried, because official results rather than the at-home test seemed to make it real.
The other defining moment was the first ultrasound. I half expected a blank picture to come up onscreen, for the tech to say, "there's no baby in here; what were you thinking?!" But then I saw it, wiggling around and waving and kicking and very much real and alive. I teared up then, too.
I can't wait to see more of this little person who's about to change my entire world.
Friday, February 17, 2012
A special teacher moment
This week has been a tough one at work. Long story vague and short enough for safety, my teaching ability was called into question (by some students who I believe had a bad combination of having it out for me and genuinely not learning as much in my class as others because they put forth less effort and little to no enthusiasm--but, hey, can't win 'em all). It has been a week of self-doubt, defensiveness, desperately hurt feelings, and internal panic. One of my most tragic flaws as an educator is my desire to make everyone happy and my subsequent need for approval (yes, my name is J, and I'm a people-pleaser), not just from administrators but from colleagues, parents, and students as well.
After today's attempt on my part to smooth things over, I felt drained and defeated (despite my administrator's advice not to feel that way at all). Combine this with pregnancy hormones and the chaos that is my multi-tasking life these days, and you've got a considerable mess.
Tonight I logged onto my school Facebook page and scrolled through the news feed, all the usual types of posts from my students--music videos, carefully angled photos taken on cell phones into mirrors, and misspelled updates about the drama of life. Then I noticed a post with my name in it. It read:
dude we have 1 of the best teachers of all time i kno she thinks im playin but shes still best
to mrs O'Shields
This was the student whose truancy conference I attended earlier this week.
Several other students commented and agreed with his post.
These are the moments that remind me it's going to be okay, strange as it is.
After today's attempt on my part to smooth things over, I felt drained and defeated (despite my administrator's advice not to feel that way at all). Combine this with pregnancy hormones and the chaos that is my multi-tasking life these days, and you've got a considerable mess.
Tonight I logged onto my school Facebook page and scrolled through the news feed, all the usual types of posts from my students--music videos, carefully angled photos taken on cell phones into mirrors, and misspelled updates about the drama of life. Then I noticed a post with my name in it. It read:
dude we have 1 of the best teachers of all time i kno she thinks im playin but shes still best
to mrs O'Shields
This was the student whose truancy conference I attended earlier this week.
Several other students commented and agreed with his post.
These are the moments that remind me it's going to be okay, strange as it is.
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