Joe and I are “getting the house ready for Fall” this week, and by that I mean “we are ruining our own lives, hopefully temporarily, so that we can eventually get this place to a point that it seems a little less like it’s an insane asylum for monkeys.”
You see, this is a three-bedroom house, and we have six kids. That could be a perfectly workable situation, except for the fact that my oldest is a boy and is at the age where it doesn’t work for him to share a room with girls, but all of his siblings are either girls or a baby. Also, the kids’ bedrooms are very small. Like, the neighborhood across the street from ours has half-bathrooms that are more spacious.
After a month of planning and a very long trip to Ikea that ended with Joe and the kids surfing on the flatbed handtrucks in the warehouse aisles, I think we have a good solution for how to make us all fit. We just have to move every single piece of furniture in this house and assemble three very large and heavy items from our Ikea haul, and we’ll be all set.
So far, the process has been like one of those Mensa puzzles where you have to figure out how to get the fox and the chicken and the grain across the river but you can only fit one thing with you at a time in the boat: things are so grim around here that I’m afraid the kids will start eating each other if we turn our backs. No, kidding. The analogy is that we don’t have enough space to clear out any rooms, so we have to bend our minds to figure out which items to move at which times so that we have enough room for whatever we need to do next.
The salient aspect of the situation is that we have nowhere to put all the junk we found under the kids’ beds, and so we dumped it all on the living room floor. And it is an amount of stuff that I could have never imagined would fit in a landfill, let alone under furniture in my home. I couldn’t even begin to quantify how many toys and stuffed animals are in that heap, because they are numerous like the stars. Every time I gaze upon it I think about just giving the house and all its contents to a local hoarder and starting over somewhere new.
So I am going to do what INTJs do best and retreat into my head to write a blog post and hope it all magically goes away while I’m gone. Here are a few posts that are far more worthy of your time than this one:
– Lisa-Jo Baker opens up about her struggles with rental homes and living in small spaces, and offers some very wise words about what really makes a home beautiful. Do you think there would be copyright issues if I had this tattooed on my arm?
– I absolutely love Gail Albert Halaban’s photography collection called Out My Window, in which she shows people living their lives as seen from outside their window. Someone help me articulate why these pictures are so stirring.
– I knew that Matt Walsh would write hilarious posts after his twins were born. I was right.
– Abigail, a secular-feminist-lawyer-turned-Catholic-housewife, meditates on her struggles with dividing housework with her husband, and explains why she stopped insisting that they split it 50/50.
– A caucasian mom who adopted a daughter from Africa writes a sweet and interesting post about the surprisingly large impact that the simple issue of hair has had on their family.
– Galileo’s drawings of Saturn from 1610.
– You know that famous hiker who had to cut his own arm off after a boulder fell on it? It turns out that one of the things that kept him going was a vision of a little boy whom he believed to be his future son. Sure enough, a few years later, he did have a son.
– A mother writes a touching post about re-discovering her love of writing, which she once buried.
– Remember that viral video about the sweet young man who, along with his duet partner, swooned the audience when he sang opera on Britain’s Got Talent? They have a record out now, and the samples sound as amazing as you’d expect.
I just looked up from my computer, and the stuff is still all over my living room floor. Weird. I guess my only choice now is to surf Twitter and see if it goes away then.