For the past several months, my husband and I have been slowly ridding our house of the clutter. We did have a small amount of clutter in our Main Living space, but the bulk of it was in the storage room in our otherwise finished basement. It had gotten past the point of organized chaos, and had become a real problem. I had been holding onto everything that had ever belonged to my Children. Thankfully, my husband and I weren’t excessive shoppers to boot. There are different kinds of hoarders, you see. We usually kept our main living spaces, the areas that guests would most likely see, nice and neat. I just never got around to organizing the other areas. It was always something; not enough time this weekend, too much going on, I’m too tired, I just don’t feel like getting around to it today. Always. Something.

It’s always the first step; admitting you even have a problem. There is no “but” after you admit fault. There is no blame. The toughest part is just saying the words. My admission began one night when my husband and I were looking for something that we had misplaced. It’s not important what the item was, because honestly I don’t remember; this wasn’t a rare occurrence. We knew that this item must have been thrown into the great abyss aka ‘the scary room’ aka ‘the storage room.’ The storage room housed most of our tools, holiday decorations, and other normal, necessary items. The problem was all of the stuff that we didn’t need was making it hard to get through the cluttered room to find the things we did. A few months ago, we talked about our minimalism kick. I even talked about the time that Jeff accidentally donated a good portion (okay, MOST!) of my skinny Summer clothes, because I didn’t have them marked. I talked about how difficult it has been to get rid of some of our children’s Baby Clothes, but how we decided what would stay and what would go. It’s easy really, but it can be a time-consuming process. Since my husband and I are working our way out of debt, we decided to try to sell the nicer items, donate the items that weren’t valuable but were usable, and to throw away the items that no one would ever want–the torn and stained pieces that even Goodwill employees would question why we ever would have saved for any amount of time. Honestly, those items probably held the most memories.

Here’s the part where I admit that I’m not perfect. I fully admit that this isn’t just a cute problem that you can wrap up with a pretty bow and a tag that reads “Michelle sure loves her babies!” I’m not just in love with my children; I have a hard time letting them go. We all know that time moves at the exact speed for everyone; it doesn’t slow down when you’re having a good time, pause for smiles, or allow us to stomp down on the fast-forward button when we’re in pain. However, it is a worldwide phenomenon that people feel that children age faster than adults. Sure, it seems that way because it’s somewhat true. Babies’ brains are 80% the size of an adult’s brain by the age of 3. When we learn that we are pregnant, we spend months preparing for a tiny, little newborn, but some of us never prepare for the stages beyond newborn, and most of us never plan for it. It’s okay; it’s not your fault. No one else will prepare you either. The doctor who delivers your child won’t say “Congratulations on your beautiful future teenager!” And the salesperson at Babies R’ Us definitely won’t tell you that you don’t need all of those items in your basket, seeing as how they can only possibly be used for a few months at most.

Recently, I realized that my mindset about my children growing up had to change. I have since had a few hiccups in this plan, like the time I told another couple how disappointed I was that my daughter had started walking so early (true story), or the time I cried while going through her dresser and realizing that most of it needed to be sold/donated/packed away. I got through those moments, though. I reminded myself how lucky I am that my children are all healthy and growing so well. Now, instead of being upset about what has passed, I am finding joy in the present. I’m doing what I should have been doing all along; celebrating my children in the now, and looking forward to the future.

Holding onto baby clothes to keep your baby from growing up is like holding onto a train to try to slow it down.

Since this epiphany, my husband and I have gone through what used to be known as the scary room, and organized it until it can be rightfully called a storage room. We still have some work to do and we know that we could get rid of even more of the items in the room, but we’ve made great progress. We now have our holiday decorations in one place, the tools in another, and everything just looks and feels so much better in this room. At the same time, we’ve also been getting rid of a lot of items in our main living space and bedrooms as well. I recently went through our hall closet and donated one stuffed-to-the-gills trash bag full of old sheets and towels. While doing so, I wondered why we ever thought we had needed more than 2 sets of sheets for our bedroom, and more than 2-3 for the boys’ twin beds. What’s the point? We have a washer and dryer, right? I’ve also cleaned out our front closet completely. Crazy, but we actually put our vacuum cleaner and ironing board inside our CLOSET now! My bedroom has also been victimized by my new friend, organization. My bedroom was always the last room that I would clean, but now I keep it ready for company at all times, even *gasp* making my bed every morning! I used to wonder what kind of people actually make their bed, and now I know; people who take pride in their things and like having a pretty, organized room to retire to for the evening.

Now that my subconscious isn’t cluttered with the stress of having these items that I don’t need, it’s liberated me. I now have found the time to get around to all the other started projects lying around my house, waiting for someone to take the initiative to get it done. I’m caulking and painting, fixing handles, and finally beginning to take real pride in my home. Even though few people knew that I even had a problem (unless you’d been down to my basement storage room or stepped into my bedroom when I hadn’t just shoved all my clutter into my overfull closet, you probably wouldn’t know), it feels so good to have removed all the things in my life that I don’t need. My children have outgrown their baby clothes, and maybe I’ve outgrown some things in my life as well.

{ this post originally appeared on October 31, 2012 }