Buried Alive

      The house has been messy a lot lately. Part of that is because we have a new baby, and cleaning up toys is to not a priority over cooking, laundry or cleaning...or keeping my little man's diapers dry (which has been a real challenge in light of his digestive response to the antibiotics he has gotten via milk).  It feels like we've really only had a couple days off from illness for almost a month. My thirdborn got a non-strep sore throat this past week that has kept us away from others for three days (and impetigo, which did mean another trip to Walgreens). I just don't want to work non-stop orchestrating what needs to be done after I'm done with my chores, which these days don't always get done. I want to sit down and stop wondering if the pile of clean laundry will ever fold itself. I know some people dream about zombies attacking them; I, on the other hand, dream about my laundry revolting and burying me alive, smothering me in Downey freshness.
           The other part of the messiness has been that two girls have had a birthday party which means a lot of extra presents to find a new home for. These days it is difficult to find to a clean spot to sit let alone not trip over toys on the journey to the couch.  My youngest girls make 90% of the mess around the house, but get easily overwhelmed when assigned the task by themselves. They need a lot of direction. I don't think the little ones would be so overwhelmed if there wasn't so much stuff in the first place, which brings me to yet another chore that begs to be done...finding toys they don't really want anymore and donating them. I know that some parents do the dirty work at night or when their kids are gone, but I committed a long time ago to not throwing away things without their knowledge. I still remember my panic and horror at finding my Uncle Rax paper spectacles from my kid's meal being mysteriously gone one day. I asked my mom if she had gone through "my" drawer. She usually limited her "straightening up" (that was her word for it...I would've called it "throwing away my treasures") to anywhere, BUT my drawer. Apparently, she wasn't pleased with being unable to pull "my" drawer in the kitchen open without mess flying everywhere because of all the "treasures" I had jammed in there (which included my ubercool paper glasses that made me look like an alligator). I was crushed to find out she'd thrown them away. I knew all about the Bible and forgiveness since my dad was a Pastor, but I had a real hard time forgiving that. God has now blessed me with a daughter who has a similar sentimentality (and most people agree that she looks just like me)...so I've experienced first hand how difficult I was (and have repented of this to my mother). Anyhow, I have since committed to only throwing out things in their presence.
         I have personally come to the realization that it is not worth it to keep something unless you actually have room to enjoy it. This has been a tough concept to teach, and I can't claim to be entirely successful yet with my kids. The only thing that really lasts and leaves it's impact here on earth are the relationships we make with other people. The "stuff" we value all becomes trash at some point. I am reminded of Matthew 6:20 which says, "But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven,where moths and vermin do not destroy,and where thieves do not break in and steal." I am dedicated to taking along as many people as I know with me, instead of storing up stuff.
     It's time to help my children let go of the clutter to prevent us from being buried alive in a pile of mess...even if it means throwing away some paper spectacles from a kid's meal.