The Less Stuff The Better

I get major kicks from throwing things away.

Not diapers or HOA flyers or empty ice cream pints I ate in one sitting (let me liveeee), rather stuff that has accumulated in the house and needs to be donated or gifted or trashed—simply removed in some form or fashion.

The list includes but is not limited to:

• Extra sets of bedsheets

  • Why do I need 6 queen sets when we only have 2 queen beds in the house??

    • We are down to 3

• Toys

  • If they’re broken, missing a part, or my kids won’t remember them if I sneak them out the door during nap times, then SAYONARA.

    • I said we’d never have a playroom because it’s where toys go to sit untouched, but since I had to eat my words when we bought this house, I’m even more militaristic about what stays and what goes. It must fit nicely in the teeny formal dining-turned-playroom or else it dies.

• Frames I hate but I’ve kept in case I need a frame

• T-shirts

• High-heels

• Expired sunscreen

• Kid clothes

  • If it’s girl clothing Jo has grown out of, bye. If it’s boy clothing Anders has grown out of but I never really liked anyway so why would I save it for Warren, bye. If it’s boy clothing Warren has grown out of, double bye.

    • Except 1-5 pieces of extra special stuff because I have a heart. And also I expect Jo to give me grandkids someday based on her obsession with babies.

• Books we’ll never read again

  • Someone please beg Aaron to downsize his philosophy book collection that he’s never read nor will ever read

    • And his cookbook collection

• Wine glasses

  • I love wine more than most, but realistically only 2 adults live here, one being a hermit who never has company (read: me), so I don’t need my nice matching sets of stems + stemless which adds up to 12, PLUS all the glasses I’ve collected from wineries and weddings and gift shops.

    • I kept the ones that say “100% that witch” and “because mommin’ ain’t easy” because life is short and let’s be silly.

• Sunglasses

  • I never have a pair when I need them, so my impulse purchases have accumulated. But that’s dumb because no one needs to keep 9 pairs of sunglasses. Maybe I should just you know, plan ahead. Or keep a pair in the car. I’m growng up!

Obviously I could keep going because houses accumulate stuff. I say “houses” like it’s not me or Aaron acquiring crap, but truly, sometimes it’s not even our fault. I bought 6 bottles of wine at Publix the other week (SAY WHAT YOU WANT), and the guy goes “Congrats! You get a free wine tote with a purchase of 6 or more bottles!” I was like, listen, sir. I’m pretty sure I just secretly threw away 4 wine totes that my hoarding husband insists we’ll need when attending a party someday even though we don’t attend parties. If you so much as think about putting another one in my cart that will sit in my laundry room for another year, so help me…

”Oh no thanks!” was my actual response.

But I’m learning to turn down free stuff because that’s where so much of the crap build up in my house comes from.

Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself.

I’ve Marie Kondo’d my house more than once. Anyone who has read this blog long enough knows this. But somehow each military move unearths another 4,000 pounds of dead weight that has been living rent-free in our homes. It’s astounding.

My goal for these 3 years in Florida is to not only have a completely stripped down interior collection of STUFF, but also a garage we can park in.

I admit this is primarily an Aaron situation. The man loves his “what ifs,” which is why that disco ball will remain part of our family makeup in the corner of the garage until his dying breath, but it’s my mission to Jedi mind trick him into getting rid of 70% of his garage possessions. He’s actually come a long way in the purging department, considering that the first time I ever saw him visibly angry in our relationship was the time I threw out the 40 soy sauce packets and 25 paper chopsticks he’d stored in a bursting kitchen drawer.

Anyway, there’s such a lightness to living with less.

I get excited when I open our linen closet and there’s roominess between the organized piles. I feel less bogged down when I look around and only see things that we use regularly or that hold a lot of importance to me on a personal level.

Staring at my 10 absolute favorite books on the bookshelf makes me so much happier than staring at 50 books that were fine but make everything feel cramped and heavy. You know?

You do. You know this.

You know that decluttering and editing and purging and whatever-you-want-to-call-it is good for the soul.

No one has ever not felt amazing after organizing their closet or office or the kids’ bathroom drawers. Studies have linked a clean space to a clean mind, leaving room for us to truly relax. Obviously nothing I’m typing is ground-breaking, but boy it’s just been so satisfying, I figured I’d share my latest feelings of organization elation in case you forgot how good it feels and want to go ham on that hell-hole beneath the sink. Enjoy!