Lighter

Last night I went to bed feeling several pounds lighter than I had when I woke up that morning.

Yesterday, I finally sat down and sorted through my paper.

When all was said and done, I sorted through four boxes, two large accordian files, and two stacks of paper. I now have in my garage, waiting to be properly destroyed, three full boxes of paper I no longer need.

Clearly, I can't deny it - I am a paper hoarder. I had bills and bank statements going back several years. I had birthday cards from when my friends were too young to even spell my name. I had high school letters passed hand-to-hand during class. I had pages of song lyrics that I had printed out for one reason or another. Old plane tickets, bus passes, travel itineraries, movie ticket stubs - anything that I thought might in any way have some sort of meaning or importance, anything I might possibly want some day.

Yesterday, I let most of that go. It was beautifully freeing.

I now have one small half-full box of meaningful momentos. I have our tax records (finally!) sorted and organized in one accordian file and our other relevant bills and important documents in the other.

I don't know why I hold on to paper so tightly. Partly, I suppose, to remember. I feel I have so few memories over the years, and I'm afraid of forgetting the rest, so I cling to anything that might hold even the slightest meaning. A paper record of my life, of who I was, of who I knew, of what I did, of where I spent my money, of...of...of.

I have carried around this extra weight for so many years, dragging it from one house to another, adding to it as the months and years went on. And for what?

At some point, I had so much "meaningful" paper that it all ceased to have meaning. Paring it down has meant that the small box I have left has more meaning than the piles of paper I'd had hours earlier. A small box of cherished momentos to replace boxes and piles of stuff.

Ahh...how freeing.

When the cat's away...

What a week this has been! My husband, who has been unemployed for seven months, had a week-long temporary job. I love that man dearly, but I find it hard to keep a good house with him around 24/7.

A week without him has left my house mother-in-law ready. It's that clean.

The kitchen is scrubbed, clean (including the inside of my toaster) and completely reorganized. I feel like I have so much extra room in there now! I even tackled the top of my fridge.

Before:


After:


I sorted through the boy's toy baskets, tossing out all the miscellaneous "stuff" that had collected in there. Even though his baskets were suddenly much emptier, he has rediscovered all of his favourite toys and been playing with them much more often. Less is, indeed, often more.

I *coughputawaytheChristmasdecorationscough*, but we won't talk about that. Because it's February. And ow, my pride.

I cleaned and reorganized and tidied and cleaned some more. I have this odd desire to dance around my house now.

And the boy and I! We had so much fun.

I made a batch of playdough using a recipe a friend had given me. He played with this frequently and for nice long stretches of time, which I took full advantage of to get more cleaning done (and some web surfing...and some playdough playing...because who can resist playdoh?). I made a playdoh snowman, which the boy insisted needed a hat - so a hat was made. I give you, Cowboy Playdohman:



And Cowboy Playdohman after a few modifications done by said boy:



We played with bubbles (while Mommy washed the dishes).



We went outside! In the snow! For hours!



We walked to the produce market and picked up all sorts of wonderful fruits and veggies (and the obligatory yogurt, which the boy would eat several times a day if I let him). We tried our very first blood orange, which, though the name has always turned me off, was very good. We bought bananas, battered though they tend to be in the winter, with plans to make banana muffins in a couple days.



I hate to sound so giddy about having my darling husband out of the house for a few days - but seven months! You can't blame a girl, really.

Kool-Aid Playdough

2 1/2 cups Flour
1/2 cup salt
2 small packages of Kool-Aid
3 tablespoons of oil
2 cups boiling water

1. Mix flour, salt, oil and kool-aid until blended
2. Add boiling water, mix with spoon until cool enough to knead, knead until colour is well mixed
3. Store in air tight container or bag in the fridge.

In Which I Clean

Ah, how wonderful it is to have a tidy uncluttered clean home.

We had company last weekend, so I used it as a good excuse to do a deep clean of our house ahead of time. How oddly exhilarating a day of good hard cleaning is! Since then I've been tidying up twice a day, as I know that I do much better when I keep on top of things rather than end up overwhelmed and avoiding the mess after falling behind.

I did a bit of a mini-clean this weekend again,
sweeping,
mopping,
vacuuming,
ironing,
doing laundry,
washing diapers,
handwashing and relanolizing the wool diaper covers,
cooking,
tidying,
marking (I teach an online course),
baking (the best banana bread ever, according to my husband),
before finally putting my son to bed and, after one last quick kid-free tidy, relaxing for the evening.

It's so much more peaceful to spend the day in a tidy house (or, even better, outside).

My biggest difficulty as far as cleaning and decluttering goes is throwing stuff away. I'm terrible at it. Firmly against it, actually. After all, you never know when that desk calculator with the dead batteries and broken pen might come in handy - and, in any case, it was a gift. And that sweater you've never worn - it is really quite pretty and one day you might want to wear it. And all those empty containers - well, containers can be useful for so many things, right? Countless things! You can't throw them away. And that old tennis ball that doesn't bounce anymore - it's still a ball. You can, you know, roll it around or something.

It would seem I have issues.

BUT last week I forced myself to let ago of a few things (including the above-mentioned broken desk calculator and flat tennis ball). My husband is much better at this than I am. A little too good, I thought, as I pulled a Christmas card from his Oma out of the trashcan. Honestly! Not a sentimental bone in his body.

Now, perhaps someone could tell me - what do I do with all these rescued greeting cards??