I remember when I first started blogging.
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I remember when I first started blogging.
Posted by Polly Poppins at 10:35 AM in Polly Poppins | Permalink | Comments (9)
A long time ago, in a land far, far away (aka, high school) I coined the phrase "rat booty."
rat booty, (n.): been everywhere, done everything, carrying lice.
Or maybe plague.
Hi, Mom, you might want to skip this post because you raised me better than this. Seriously. You did. And I don't want you to have to start questioning your parenting now. Not after all these years. I mean, I'm thirty-four for Hank's sake, and I haven't done any prison time, or even jail, and all my babies gots the same daddy and I've never been on Springer, so, yeah, just skip this post. You'll sleep better.
Posted by Polly Poppins at 10:34 AM in Polly Poppins | Permalink | Comments (2)
Purging stuff is something that I excel at. Seriously. I am very good.
Mr. Poppins is less so, but he's gotten much better. The first time we went through his cd collection together (and it was a huge one), to get it down to a more reasonable size, he was surprised at my method, although I've since seen it repeated on one of those clean-sweep-type shows.
I set a timer, this way the task doesn't feel like it could possibly stretch into forever, and when it goes off I'm done. But before that timer goes off I get through as much as I can as quickly as possible, no reminiscing. Just "keep," "don't keep," or "maybe." If Mr. Poppins held something in his hand for more than three seconds, I snatched it away and put it in the "maybe" pile. If we got through the pile before the timer was up, we started through the maybe pile again. Inevitably, it was easier to decide to toss some stuff. Other stuff was still ambivalent.
Here's the clincher: we kept that stuff.
You see, for me, another purge can always happen later. It is not important to eradicate every single superfluous thing. Just the things you know that you don't want hanging around. If you reduce the pile by even a few cds, then it's a victory.
When it comes to clothes, I am not a precisely "one in, one out" type of person. Nope. I don't do it. But when I am going through my closet and I turn my nose up at the same shirt yet again, I take it off the hanger and throw it in a bag I keep on the uppermost shelf. I let it sit in that bag for a while. Sometimes months, maybe even a year. Then if I haven't fished that shirt back out because I wanted it, I know it is safe to throw away.
Sometimes I put Mr. Poppins clothes in that bag. If he doesn't ask after an item, I feel free to chuck it. If he does, which he never has, I plan to claim to "look for it" and then put it back in his drawer. If there are too many clothes in Mr. Poppins closet for me to put stuff away with ease, then I ask that he find three shirts, or maybe two pants, that he can part with. Usually he comes up with more but the very idea that he can stop after finding three, that the task will not stretch into eternity, makes it easier for him to begin.
Since I've had Secret Lulu, it seems impossible to get every little thing put away and still have a life. So I keep baskets, upstairs and down. I put those little migrating things into the basket, until the basket will hold no more. Then I set a timer (love that timer) and for ten minutes, sometimes every hour Secret Lulu is at preschool, sometimes only ten minutes a day on the days I think of it, I put stuff from that basket away.
Until the timer goes off.
Then I stop.
I do this with laundry, too. If there is a huge pile--and this does happen--I look at the clock (no timer upstairs) and decide that I will fold my little heart out for five or ten minutes. Then I stop. Do other stuff. Come back and go for five more minutes. Until it's done. If I think I'm not going to be able to get to it all, I put away the stuff I've folded and leave the rest in the basket.
I am not a domestic, and especially not a repetitive, chores lover. I would outsource my bathing and teeth brushing if I could. I really would rather not be bothered. I also can't stand to have things untidy.
It is the bane of my existence.
Mostly, if I know I can get rid of one thing, I do. I don't worry about going through all like things. I just toss the one old magazine, the one unfashionable pair of shoes, the one not-right lipstick. I just get rid of the one thing as I see it and if there becomes an surplus of things (books can be this way for me), I either choose a number to toss, a time limit for grabbing out a bunch but not necessarily all, or I choose a limited space (just one shelf, say) and be thorough about that.
But the secret is, that if there is something that I know is neither useful nor beautiful, but I desperately want to keep it, I let myself keep it. I am not the gestapo. I can be compassionate.
Just don't let word get around. I'd hate for my reputation to be ruined.
Posted by Polly Poppins at 09:17 AM in Polly Poppins | Permalink | Comments (5)
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