Let’s get rid of ALL THE STUFF
Every year when I’m taking down the Christmas tree and packing away the decorations, it feels like a treat to get the house back to normal.
“This is MY Christmas!” I’ll caption a photo of my clean, clutter-free living room when all of those darn pine needles are swept up and the garlands are back in storage. Sometimes I’ll make it until Jan. 2 before I de-Christmas the house, but other years I think I’ve done it as early as Dec. 27. I can’t help it!
There’s nothing like bringing a bunch of new things into your home to make it feel ever so CROWDED, which means January is a popular time for purging and de-cluttering.
In the spirit of starting off 2018 with less “stuff,” here’s a handy 50-step checklist for any parents looking to simplify a.k.a. Get Rid of Their Kids’ Junk …
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- Are the kids watching you?
- Quick! Turn on a show (if they absolutely cannot leave the house — that is clearly better, if you can arrange it).
- Now grab a handful of garbage bags — black ones, so they can’t see inside.
- Sneak into the messiest kid-infested area of your home.
- Open two garbage bags. One is for actual garbage a.k.a ‘broken Happy Meal’ toys and random bits of bagel, and the other is for stuff to donate (that needs to be hidden, naturally).
- First, attack the area that drives you the craziest. This is going to be different for every parent.
- Pick up the first item you see.
- If it’s broken and not worth repairing, toss it.
- If it’s a cheap piece of dollar store junk, toss it.
- If it’s a puzzle that’s definitely missing pieces, toss it.
- If it’s something your child bought at a yard sale and never looked at again, toss it. You extended its life, but it doesn’t get a free pass forever.
Is angry. Is pouty. But has no idea I’m throwing out her sh-t. - If it’s been chewed on by a pet (or toddler), toss it.
- If it’s a book with pages torn out, toss it.
- If it’s a little piece from a board game no one plays, toss it.
- Take a deep breath, now that some of the garbage is cleared up.
- If you step on anything sharp, like a LEGO, you get to angrily throw it in the trash bag. That’s only fair.
- Is it a toy your child hasn’t played with in ages? Donate it.
- Is it a toy that’s way too babyish for your kids? Donate it.
- A book they’re too old for? Donate it.
- An intact puzzle no one ever does? Donate it.
- A kiddie board game you honestly can’t play again because if you do, you will burst the vein in your forehead in frustration? Donate it.
SO. MUCH. JUNK. - If it’s money, Finders Keepers.
- If you find nasty bits of old food, you’re perfectly within your rights to yell at the family member you suspect left it in the toybox.
- Now move onto the art supply cabinet.
- I KNOW, it’s terrible. They just shove things in and don’t bother to put them away neatly, and now there’s glitter everywhere and WE’RE BOTH CRYING.
- Start with the half-crumpled pieces of paper. Designate a third garbage bag for paper recycling. You’re going to fill it with “precious” artwork and you’re not even going to be sorry.
- If it’s a good piece of art, put it aside.
- If it’s a scribble on a piece of paper, recycle it. (Seriously, these kids are paper-wasters!)
- If it’s a random bead, toss it. It’s not worth looking for the bead bin. Your life is precious.
Not today, Satan. - If it’s a dried-up marker, toss it — and file it in your memory for when your child asks for new markers and promises that this time, they really WILL put the caps back on.
- If it’s a broken crayon, toss it. You may think you’re gonna melt a bunch of them together to make new crayons, but who are you fooling? Really?
- If it’s a dried-up glue stick, toss it and threaten to stop buying glue sticks.
- If it’s a colouring book they don’t use but it looks new, donate it.
- If it’s a colouring book full of scribbles and no one will miss it, toss it. (Or recycle it? Who knows these days? Crayon is waxy though … hmmm …)
- If it’s your own personal Donald Duck colouring book from childhood that has somehow survived this long, KEEP IT. Your art is precious.
- Dragging your garbage bags behind you, sneak into your children’s rooms.
Is still angry. Is also Channel #3 from Scream Queens. - UGH, the mess. I know. I feel you.
- If it’s a random school paper that doesn’t seem special, recycle it.
- If it’s a Rainbow Loom elastic, toss it. There are millions more and you’re never going to win that war.
- If it’s a ripped rubber Polly Pocket outfit, toss it.
- If it’s a headless Polly Pocket, toss it.
- If it’s anything to do with a frigging Polly Pocket, toss it, because those things are always losing their heads and tearing their little rubber outfits.
- If it’s a Shopkin, KEEP IT. Those little jerks are like $5 each, and maybe they’ll get Beanie-Baby valuable someday.
Don’t throw out these little jerks, even though it’s TEMPTING - If it’s a piece of Lego, keep it (providing you didn’t step on it) because Lego is $$$ and your son will somehow notice if it’s missing.
- If it’s outgrown clothing, donate it.
- If it’s a pair of Build-a-Bear underpants, do NOT accidentally put them in your child’s underwear drawer. (Look for the tail hole.)
- If it’s a Barbie shoe, chuck it as hard as you can in the general direction of the Barbie house for satisfying plastic “clunk!”
Aughhhhhhh the MESS! - Sneak all three garbage bags outside while your children are glued to their show.
- Transfer the recycling and garbage to standard clear bags (once you’re safely away from sight) and stash the black bag of donations in your vehicle. Triple-knot it.
- Days later, when the kids ask what you’re dropping off at the donation centre in that mysterious black bag, reply “Vegetables” and promptly change the subject.
New year, same sickness
It was one thing to murmur “What day is it?” during the fuzzy nobody-knows-what-day-it-is between Christmas and New Year’s Day.
It was actually a good time to be sick, in a way. No one was working, so there wasn’t an urgency for *me* to be working. In terms of getting sick when you’re self-employed, the timing was quite smart.
Except I didn’t know what day it was leading up to Christmas, either. Or now.
I felt yucky during my annual freelance Christmas party — which feels like a lifetime ago — and it only got worse. Read More
The 12 days of Christmas vacation
On the twelfth day of Christmas vacation, my family sent to me
Twelve snacks served daily
Eleven whiny demands
Ten wicked tantrums
Nine loads of laundry
Eight spills a-spilling
Seven rowdy neighbours
Six frantic deadlines
Five Mommy meltdowns
Four broken Wii remotes
Three Advil Liqui-Gels
Two squabbling children
And an audience to watch while I pee
The gifts have been unwrapped, the big meal is over and there are lots of new toys to play with. There are also sugared-up kids floundering without the routine of school, pine needles sticking to the bottom of your feet and bags of wrapping paper and semi-deconstructed boxes everywhere you turn.
Welcome to the annual post-Christmas “when-do-they-go-back-to-school,” waiting period.
My friend and I actually started planning for this months ago. We were both legitimately dreading the 12-day stint when the kids would all be home from school.
(If you savour this time with your children and think we’re heartless parents, you might want to stop reading now. Everyone who’s in favour of a parental advent calendar that counts down to Jan. 3 — the glorious restart of school — we’re totally on the same page).
It all started when we saw the school cafeteria’s lunch menu for December. So many little squares were blanked out for the holidays!
“Did you see the hot lunch calendar?” I waved it at my husband. “They’re going to be home for so long!”
“I know,” he replied grimly. #parentsoftheyear
My friend felt equally unsettled when she saw how long Christmas vacation was going to be.
(In our defense, we’re both self-employed and work from home. Having three kids running between our two houses does not a good work environment make.)
She started planning early and bought a secondhand TV for her basement so the kids (hers and mine) would have a more secluded spot to play Wii during those 12 long days. She is a very smart woman.
We also decided to buy the kids memberships to a new video game loft that just opened in town. We sat on a leather couch in the lobby, on that very first night, and agreed this place would be essential to maintaining our sanity during Christmas vacation.
Of course, it won’t be video-game-palooza the whole time. There will be healthy doses of Christmas movies, cartoons, Netflix exploration, etc.
Oh, and fresh air! Yes, sometimes we will kick those little bums outside and demand they run around in the snow (or the stiff frosty grass, whichever we have).
We’re going to trade off, too — keeping each other’s kids so we can each have quiet blocks of time to work (or eat the rest of the After Eights all alone).
Teachers certainly deserve a break at this time of year, so it helps to reframe Christmas vacation as a gift to them.
But as for the parents staying home with the little darlings, there are only so many times you can cheerfully agree to make a snack (The answer is one. One snack.) or replace batteries in a Wii remote (I gave my son a toolbox so he luckily does this himself now).
We’ll do our best to be patient and get through the days until school starts again. That first day of complete peace and quiet, after you’ve dropped them at the bus stop? Now that’s truly a vacation!
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The (5th annual) Freelancer Christmas Party
I’ve been a freelance journalist unofficially since 2010, when I went on maternity leave with our son and made the decision not to return to full-time out-of-the-home “real” work.
It took a few years for me to realize I was missing out on some of the fun parts of a “real” job with colleagues … like office Christmas parties.
So in December of 2013, I decided to start throwing my own …
The mom who hated Christmas
Every mom in the neighbourhood liked Christmas a lot . . .
But one mom — the one with the scowl — she did NOT!
This mom disliked Christmas! The whole Christmas season!
(Perhaps therapy would one day uncover the reason).
It could be her leggings weren’t pulled on just right.
It could be, perhaps, that her undies were tight.
But I think that the source of her holiday blues
Stemmed from her oversized lists of to-dos!
Whatever the reason that made this mom sour,
She sighed at her desk and made lists by the hour.
Staring at her computer with a cranky-faced frown,
She felt like the surliest mommy in town.
For she knew all the mothers (and some daddies, too)
Were shopping and prepping and entertaining, too.
“Now they’re decorating their CABINETS?!” she snarled with a sneer.
“I’m tired of this holiday and it’s not even here.”
Then she rolled her eyes and grumbled and made some fresh tea.
“Why does everyone love Christmas? Everyone except ME?”
She thought of the wrapping that had yet to be done
The baking, the cleaning, the errands to run!
With dread she then thought of the shopping mall crowd
The line-ups, the waitings — never again, she had vowed!
She found herself uttering the stalest of all holiday lies:
“Pretty good! Just a few little things left to buy!”
The mall! Oh, the noise! Oh, the noise!
Noise! Noise! Noise!
That’s one thing she hated! The NOISE!
NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!
The more the mom thought of this whole Christmas mess,
The more the mom felt her throat squeezing with stress.
“The commercialism! The spending!” she swiped at a tear.
“I’ll just tune it out and wait until January is here.”
The mom thought she’d been quiet about her holiday distaste
Until her daughter spoke up, with an innocent face.
She stared up at her mom and wiped away cookie crumbs.
“How come YOU’RE not happy when Christmastime comes?”
But you know, that old mom was so smart and so slick,
She thought up a lie, and she thought it up quick!
“Of course I like Christmas,” she fibbed ever so sweetly.
“I’m just tired! This work has consumed me completely!”
Then she got an idea! An awesome idea!
THE MOM GOT A WONDERFUL, AWESOME IDEA!
“I know just what to do!” The mom felt quite impressed.
“I’ll just do what I feel like! I’ll skip ALL OF THE REST!”
She bought the kids’ presents and stuffed all the socks.
She bought for too many adults (and tried not to balk).
She baked only the favourites and not one recipe more!
(After all, that’s what Superstore’s bakery’s for.)
She wrapped with leftover paper that she’d had for years
No need to rush out for new stuff (and wind up in tears).
She played MiniPops Christmas because it made her feel happy
She steered clear of carols that were dreary or sappy.
She snuggled her kids on the couch — in her lap,
And she thought about the holiday’s unnecessary crap.
“So Christmas,” she thought, “needn’t feel like a chore.”
“Christmas doesn’t HAVE to be about more, more, more!”
And what happened then? Well, in her town, they say,
That the mom’s Christmas stress nearly faded away!
She ate store-bought goodies and lounged with her littles.
They watched movies with popcorn and red-and-green Skittles.
The mom no longer felt pressured to throw the best Christmas party.
She spent time with friends. They pigged out and laughed hearty!
She ignored piles of wrapping paper and the pine needle tree mess.
She relaxed with her family and knew she was blessed.
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Heather's Handmade Life 