Destroying the House

Yesterday my husband and I decided enough was enough. We had to clean out the kids’ rooms. Through no fault of their own (or ours, I might add), they have too many toys. Relatives, hand-me-downs, old presents–you name it, it was impossible for them to keep their rooms clean due to having too much stuff.

One of the things I hate most is cleaning out the clothes. It’s not just a matter of taking out all the 3T clothes or the 12-month clothes. No, the manufacturers insist on marking the sizes wrong. My daughter wears anything from 12 months to 2T. My son wears 4T to size 6. It’s crazy. So last night we destroyed our hallway by putting everything in it and systematically went through all the clothes in my son’s room. It’s nice to have that kind of fashion power.

Me (holding up a shirt): He looks like a pimp wearing this.
Husband: I actually think he could get away with it.
Me: Over my dead body. :batman:

We left about 3 toys in his room, aside from books and coloring supplies–his cars, his Legos, and a ukelele. All little boys have ukeleles, don’t they?

Today we have to do the same for my daughter. Her room is actually worse because I was storing all the infant supplies in there (receiving blankets, bottles, infant towels, etc. etc.). I foresee a trip to the hardware store in the very near future to get more storage bins.

Right now we have around 32 full-sized bins in storage (0-3 months, 3-6 months, 6-9 months, you get the idea…AND we have separate bins for boy clothes and girl clothes…AND separate bins for winter and summer). Worse, we can’t throw it out yet because there’s a question yet of whether we will try for Baby #3 next fall. Kind of scary, isn’t it?

On the writing front, remind me to NEVER attempt to recycle old writing. Bad idea. I’ve had to toss out all the old stuff and my “revised proposal” is really a brand new one. Sigh. On the bright side, I can now send it out to lots of places because technically they’ve never read it. I need a new title. Somehow I don’t think My Wild Irish Rogue Redux will fly.

Anyway, if you don’t hear from me for a day or so, you’ll know that I’ve been eaten alive by onesies and infant toys.