The peace and pleasure of decluttering

Comments Off | 7 liked this post. Do you? Yes

When my husband and I were newly married, we furnished our tiny apartment with hand-me-down corduroy couches, $19 folding chairs we bought at an import store, and old pots and pans borrowed from our parents’ kitchens. Fifteen years later, I’m looking at a house full of furniture and belongings we gathered as we rolled along, had kids, and made a little more money. And, while our home certainly looks nicer and feels more comfortable than our humble newlywed apartment did, it also comes with a weight I don’t always feel like carrying.

We’re not super-acquirers, but we’ve got your average complement of “grownup house” trappings. Martini glasses we have no idea what to do with, tablecloths that sit, folded and unused, in a hallway drawer, a wine vacuum pump (?). All stuff we figured we’d need, or we’d gotten as gifts, or we’d collected during our travels. Problem is, sorting, cleaning, maintaining, and putting away this “stuff” takes up quite a bit of time, especially with two kids conspiring to undo my feeble attempts at order.

Stuff has a way of taking on a life of its own: demanding one’s attention and care but giving little in return. And so, a subtle turnaround has taken place in our home. We now get as excited about getting rid of stuff as we used to about getting it in the first place. Every trip to the resale shop or Goodwill yields a thrill. Every item sold on Craigslist feels like a triumph. Everything passed on to a friend (or stranger) in need regains a bit of its luster. And with each bag or box that leaves our house, life feels a bit more open. With the extra room in the closet comes room to breathe.

The homemaking guru Flylady calls decluttering “blessing the world” with your stuff. I used to scoff at her euphemism, but I’ve come to believe that she’s onto something. Not only am I setting my stuff free so it can help or delight someone else, I’m setting myself free as well.

by Asha Dornfest, Parent Hacks

Stylish, versatile toy storage

Comments Off | 12 liked this post. Do you? Yes

Not everyone has a devoted play room, but even those who do need smart, stylish storage for the toys. Something that looks good, holds up, and is easy and reasonable to use (because even the cleverest storage system isn’t worth much if it’s hard for the kids to put their toys away).

Here are a few options I love — each works perfectly in a child’s bedroom or play area, but could also hold its own in a common area, or could find a new life once the kids have outgrown their toys. Who knows — they may even make it to your kid’s dorm room someday.

Photobucket

Via Toy Box

This Portland, Oregon-based company builds beautiful birch cubbies that can be mixed and matched in any number of ways. The colors aren’t too precious, and the form is simple and elegant. Add shelves or closet rods and you could build a system for just about any space in your home.

Photobucket

IKEA

If you’re lucky enough to live in an IKEA-graced city (as I am, FINALLY), you’ve got your pick of inexpensive, well-designed storage systems. We’ve got this TROFAST unit in our basement, and we find it’s ideal for the collections of small toys — the cars, the blocks, the train tracks, and, our favorite, “the random bin.”

Photobucket

Target

And then there’s Target. Lovely Target, where you can buy laundry detergent, school supplies and a cute top in one fell swoop. Target’s kids’ furniture offerings are simply designed and well-priced (assuming you don’t have an IKEA in town). This six-bin storage unit would work as well in an entry as it would in a playroom. The fabric bins are best suited toward lightweight toys, but they’re easy for kids to pull in and out.

Tip: Weed out unused and broken toys before you purchase new storage. You won’t overbuy, and you’ll have a better idea about how many bins or boxes you need. Once you get your new storage in place, rotate the kids’ toys every few weeks to keep them interesting.

Livable home decor

Comments Off | 10 liked this post. Do you? Yes

My husband likes to tell the story of his mother’s all-white living room. In his childhood home, this room stood as a sparkling symbol of his mother’s ability to keep a room clean through sheer force of will. No food was allowed in this room, nor shoes, nor excessive flatulence. One held one’s breath while passing this room in case one’s exhalation fogged the glass coffee table.

He speaks of this room with a combination of admiration and resentment. As an adult, he loves nothing more than a neat space, and I’m sure he wishes our living room were a bit more pristine. But I can also hear the perspective of the kid who was kept out of part of his own home in case he “messed it up.”

Now I’m all for adult spaces in a home. I would hate for my kids to miss out on the experience of eating off of the “grown up” china, or of maintaining the sitting room as a place to relax together, but not necessarily spread out all of the toys. I also appreciate thoughtful decor. But I want the entire family to feel comfortable in our home. Our house doesn’t look like a Pottery Barn catalog picture, and I wouldn’t want it to feel that way, either.

I’m finding, as the years go by, our favorite decor and furniture either came as a result of our travels, or is worn enough to look comfortable without looking shabby. I’ve never been one who could walk into an home store (or browse an Etsy shop) and find that “just right” piece for a particular room. I have a motley collection of furniture and accessories I’ve collected as hand-me-downs, one-offs, and bargains (with a few impulse buys thrown in for fun), and I just keep rearranging them every few years. The idea of creating (or maintaining) anything as cohesive as an all-white room just doesn’t compute.

I admire the pride my mother in-law took in her home. (While it’s much more relaxed today, it continues to be spotless. Even in the presence of grandkids. Amazing.) But I’m also perfectly okay with a less-than-perfect home. I prefer to see the scratched tables and the scattered belongings as evidence of a living, breathing — comfortable — family.