The ongoing battle with clutter

Haven't had as much time or energy lately, as trained a replacement for my old position and started a new one (same employer).  But, the new position requires a different form of dress, so after a frustrating first week trying to put outfits together, cleaned out my closet (mostly) this past weekend.  I actually filled two garbage bags with clothing I know someone else can use, but, I won't.  You know the "what used to fit", "what might fit", "maybe I'll need someday" stuff.  It's still not as uncluttered as I'd like, but, the clothes can actually hang without being "squished", and putting outfits together (I sorted by color)is much easier.  I like pretty tops, but, stay with solid color bottoms (except for the occasional skirt).  I rediscovered things I'd forgotten I had, some to keep and some to give away.  The level of frustration has vanished!  Feel much more put together and professional.  I'm replacing a few things, but, as a new item comes in, something has to go.  If the old is still nice, will go to an appreciative new home.
Best thing, is clutter hasn't crept back as I've been busy, as I'm still keeping up with the areas (kitchen table, nightstand) where things accumulate.
It's not perfect, and there are miles to go, but, it's working!

Finding out that organizing works!!

I had the most amazing experience yesterday.  It was a great day with my entire family there, including the ever adorable Quinn (my granddaughter).  But, the amazement came not from the family dinner, which was lovely, but, rather from the lack of stress in preparation for "company".  On Friday, I vacuumed the carpets, cleaned off horizontal surfaces (Quinn has a knack for finding things I don't want her to find), finished some dishes, put some bread dough out of the freezer to rise and pulled the high chair out of Quinn's playroom.  On Saturday, I vacuumed again (the cats shed alot), swept and lightly mopped the kitchen floor, wiped off the table, put the big leaf in the oak table for dinner, wiped down the bathroom, did some laundry, took a shower and the house (and I) were done.  We grilled chicken outside, baked potatoes, had a side dish that my oldest daughter made (a most excellent macaroni salad), tossed a salad, had ice cream birthday cake for dessert.  Quinn loves my baked bread and kept saying BRR when she would point to it.  I never had to feel embarrassed or defensive or anxious about any mess or clutter.  Was it perfect - no of course not, we live here.  Was it homey, clean and fun?  Yes, yes and yes!  Why was it so much less work than previous cleaning binges that were carefully mapped out, struggled with and done barely before they walked in?  The small amount of clutter (excess magazines I'm going through, a gathering of things I cleaned out from my office at work (in preparation for a move to a different office), and a tote I'm putting things in that I want, but, that won't be out on display at the moment (and it's not even full) were easily removed to another room for further sorting after the gathering.  The rooms had no big issues, just the usual small cleaning jobs that are required after every busy workweek.
I enjoyed myself, wasn't afraid to let Quinn toddle around the house with a watchful eye on her, and even had time to dress nice and put on a little makeup before they all came.  DH was also very relaxed.  I kept feeling like I had TOO much spare time this past week as I usually would have been working myself senseless between the paying job and home.  The cleanup after was minimal (except for the dishes, as I don't have a working dishwasher).  Quinn even picked up her toys before going home.  That's when it hit me - it's that daily tidying up after ourselves, routine cleaning and ongoing organizing that made my life so much easier!  It's like pushing yourself up a steep hill, and then arriving at the top, catching your breath, and seeing a beautiful vista before you - and the view doesn't look as steep anymore! 

I may be singing a different tune after working all summer on my upstairs - but, for now, HAPPY!!
P.S.  Just a picture in her playroom with Quinn and Yoda hanging out together!
Cindi

Motivation for long cold winter days

I'm taking an online class to help motivate me to organize my home and my life.  Here is part of my homework this week:

My Motivation Statement:

I walk through my house and feel a sense of peace. 

I know where everything is.

I can see, and enjoy, my “treasures”.

Cleaning involves routine dusting, vacuuming, mopping, etc.

There is no sense of embarrassment if someone comes by without calling.

There are chairs that are clear to sit on.

A sink that’s clean.

A table that only needs to be set for the meal.

I feel no guilt if I want to sit and read or sew.

My home-life is as focused and runs as efficiently and routinely as my professional life.

I have time to enjoy my life.

I enjoy time with my family.

Pretty clear isn't it, when you actually write it down?

I also donated two bags of clothing to a friend's clothing drive, a huge bag of clothing (including an "extra" winter coat I had and two sweatshirts and sweatpants that I had replaced with colors I like better) and other household stuff to the Salvation Army, two large boxes of books were donated also, as were all my miscellaneous serving pieces and dishes that I no longer use (or have room for).  The books came off of the shelves pictured.  Amazing!

Clutter busting

Well, I reached a significant goal with the completion of my granddaughter's playroom.  It is warm, safe and fun.  Most importantly UNCLUTTERED.
Just as a reminder:

Chaos!!

Then, there was serenity:

With a LOT of hard work!

So a new challenge:  now

I'm going to challenge myself to cut down on STUFF

A month without my mother

It's the little things that catch me off guard - an email I would like to forward to her, a picture of my granddaughter that I know she'll love, a memory of something she said.  Grief is an odd thing.  It's unique to every person.  All I can do is focus on the positive in my life, and accept the moments that take my breath away.

When your mother dies

My mother passed away just over a week ago, and I've learned many things about myself and her, since then.  I've learned how important my roll as a mother is to me.  I thought I knew, but, there's always room for more knowledge, especially self knowledge, I guess.
My mother was 83, so she had made arrangements to cover the cost of her cremation, etc.  She had written emails for my brother to send, once she was gone, telling each of us how much we meant to her, and what she wanted us to do with a few hundred dollars she was leaving each of us.  My mother never had much money, and her favorite gift was the checks I sent her, on special occasions, holidays, etc. when she could go shopping for something she wanted and the pictures I sent her. Otherwise, she seemed content with the visits, emails and cards we all sent.  She was elderly when she learned how to email, and happily forwarded everything that was sent to her.
After she had taught herself how to use an older computer, my brother bought her a new one, and it opened up the world for her.
This past year, she was having more confusion, especially at night, and falling.
As she lived far from all of us (it wasn't that we never tried to get her to live closer or with us, it was just that she enjoyed living near her sister.  Even when she briefly lived with my one sister, she was glad to return to Texas).
Then, my aunt started making irate phone calls to my brother because "you all aren't doing enough.  One of you needs to move here and take care of your mother."  Needless to say, with family commitments, jobs, etc. of our own, that wasn't practical.  So with the help of the internet, my medical training (I'm an RN), telephone calls and some fighting with my aunt, we started doing what we could.
We found out part of the problem with our intervention, was medications my mother was taking.  My sister spent several days there, trying to figure things out with my help, and just when everything seemed under control, a day after she returned to Kansas, my mother fell, breaking two bones in her leg.
She didn't react well to medications they used for pain, and then after a long distance family meeting, my brother drove from Georgia to Texas and convinced my mother that the rehab hospital in Georgia near his home would be better for her.  She also agreed to live near him, with a live in caregiver, "since Georgia is warmer than where the girls live" (Pennsylvania,  Kansas)  We all helped with the move, either physically or financially.
So he moved her there, got medical care for her that didn't involve multiple doctors prescribing for her, and she got better.
My mother asked if she could move in with him, after the hospital, and he agreed.  She was so happy living with him! We thought we would have her for awhile longer.  One of my sisters was going to stay with her for a couple of weeks in December, so my brother could go on a vacation he had been planning for over a year.  I had planned a trip to Georgia in the spring, when I could afford to go.
Then, she started having TIA's (mini strokes), one after the other, until, within a few days of getting her hairstyled, going shopping with a new friend, having a great time in general, she no longer knew who my brother was.  It was his birthday, and she had no idea who he was.
The doctor gave choices - aggressive treatment that wouldn't change her condition, or hospice.  My brother, at this point was making all the decisions about treatment, but, we all agreed, hospice was what she would want, so it started.
As the strokes got worse, she became more and more confused.  I talked with her on the telephone, and one of the few understandable words she could say, was my name. 
Then abruptly she was gone, with her decline, and hospice all within a week when the trouble started.
Regrets are the hardest.  I wish I'd done more, understood more, let the past go sooner.
That I did what I could, with what I had, matters to me.  That I wrote her a long letter before her health failed, telling her that our arguments and misunderstanding from the past didn't matter, and I loved her, and that she read it, meant much.
I wish she would have lived a while longer, so that I could see her again, selfishly.  Not, to suffer, but, to enjoy the peaceful place she found the last few months of her life.
I finally realized that she just didn't know what I needed from her, and I never told her, because I didn't realize what it was myself, until now.
Mother and daughter relationships are fraught with love, misunderstandings and memories.
I have three grown daughters, and I will be telling them, that they need to tell me what they need, if emotionally I'm not giving it, because I don't always know the right path, the right words.  I have a good relationship with them, and love them dearly, but, I don't want them to regret anything about us, someday.

Perhaps, that is the true legacy of my mother leaving.

Multitasking your way to failure and exhaustion

I am a multitasker from childhood, I think.  Sometimes I even overwhelm me!  My daughters seem to have inherited the pesky quirk, and I have learned much about myself from watching them.  My youngest daughter who is impressive in her bright, energetic whirl of accomplishments taught me something this week.  Still in college, she has done climate research, completed a grant proposal (which she had to present to the committee) done a presentation on the Salton Sea research she and a team did last summer at the annual GSA meeting, and carries a full load of math and science at school, does volunteer work and committees - well I'm tired just thinking about it all.  So this week she had to drop out of another grant proposal for the climate research because Calculus is kicking her butt.  Okay, I never took Calculus, especially college Calculus, but, I think it is HARD stuff.  So there she is, feeling bad because she can't do it all.  Guess what, none of us can do it all.  As I heard myself reassuring her of this, and praising her ability to prioritize what she needs to do this semester, I learned something.  She prioritizes better than I do.  I would have failed Calculus before I figured out why I was so exhausted.  Instead, she spoke with her mentors, her advisor, got tutoring for the Calculus, and made the very adult decision to drop the one grant proposal, because she didn't have the time.  She also went to the gym twice this week..  How did I get such a smart kid?  Did I mention that she and her High School sweetheart are also "taking a break".  I'd be huddled under the covers of my bed.  But, not her.  I hope that means she's learned from watching me crash and burn a few times.  I already know she's smarter than me.
So why do we work ourselves into oblivion?  I always do more work, at work, than my peers.  I have responsibilities that exceed what I'm actually required to do.  Yes, my boss "loves" me.  I work hard, efficiently and accomplish much.  I earn the decent wage I'm paid.  I take one break a day - lunch (which took a long time for me to figure out didn't mean eating at my desk).  I'm not a smoker, so I'm not busy taking multiple other breaks throughout the day, as are a few others.  Why do I care that they feel entitled to all those breaks?  Human I guess.  But, I am trying to allow myself more down time lately and it helps.  Because I need a break once in awhile, too.

I'm not trying to work through a headache or exhaustion anymore.  If my body says "enough" it means it.  If a break doesn't fix it, then maybe it's time to go home.
This is my sweet baby girl doing her presentation at the big to do in Minnesota. (in the picture)