I’m told there is one surefire sign that my family has returned from a trip: I go on a decluttering binge, typically in the vicinity of 9-10 pm, after I’ve put the girls to sleep and long after my brain has given up on any sense of real productivity for the evening. Friends and loved ones begin receiving, “Hey, would you like this?” texts, and I very briefly become the most popular member of our local Buy Nothing community.
I know many people despise the word “decluttering.” It sounds a little nicer if I call it “editing,” even more refined if I call it “curating.” So there. It’s not a decluttering binge, it’s a curating mission.
Curating is what happens when I meander through my home at mid-day, returning stray socks and loose Lego parts to their homes, dropping an item or two into a donation bin as I go. Curating is lovely, and I highly recommend it. But in my brain, what happens at 10 pm while unpacking is distinctly different and altogether more frantic.
At 10 pm, returning from a trip, my brain is screaming, in all caps: SIMPLIFY EVERYTHING NOW.
Unpacking spurs a mental overdrive for the simple reason that seemingly everything we own is on full display, unceremoniously deposited on armchairs and mattresses as we return clothing, toiletries, children’s stuffies, and luggage to their proper home. But a feeling that might typically occur only a few times a year has been more amplified the last few months: We have managed to squeeze a year’s worth of trips into the months between March and mid-June, meaning I’ve run the ‘unpacking’ and ‘packing again’ gauntlet far more than usual.
And, of course, it’s no small matter why we have packed a seemingly absurd amount of travel into only a few short months: We are eagerly anticipating the arrival of baby #3 (a BOY, who would have thought?!) in September. And by eagerly anticipating, I mean the girls are excited, my husband is excited, and I’m mostly just plodding through my days looking eerily akin to an inflatable whale muttering, “27 weeks and 1 day, but who’s counting?”
All jesting aside, I’m no novice to the pregnancy thing anymore. So I can recognize in myself the surefire signs of nesting. Where most people acquire baby stuff in preparation for a new arrival, I frantically try to get rid of things. In fact, I have been explicitly banned from getting rid of the Boppy pillow (a breastfeeding/ baby lounging contraption that I used for approximately 2.5 seconds with both girls), at least until baby boy is born and I can attest that I don’t need it this time around. If you know me IRL, feel free to dig through my donation pile for a Boppy somewhere in the vicinity of October 1st.
Lest I spend too much time blaming pregnancy hormones though, I’ve pretty much always used stuff management as a way to calm any sense of chaos in my life.
When I was asked to clean my room as a child, it frequently became a multi-hour affair that involved pulling everything I owned out of drawers and closet corners to rearrange. (If you’ve been hanging out in my corner of the Internet for long enough, you may recall that my mom had a hoarding disorder— as such, throwing things away or donating was rarely an acceptable option, so rearranging it was!).
As a college student who hadn’t yet discovered minimalism, a crucial step in the midst of essay-writing and test-prep during finals week was frantically rearranging closets and cupboards for any sense of order and control.
And the best way to bring calm to my world, especially with plenty of little feet traipsing through our two-bedroom home, is to remove any form of excess.
If this sounds like it could use a psychological diagnosis of some form, you might very well be right. But my psychologist friends have assured me that, in the grand scheme of things, decluttering— even of the frantic, 10 pm variety— is a relatively benign quirk. But as an adult, I’ve recognized that keeping a handle on the stuff in my life serves a much bigger purpose.
For years, I thought I was bad at housework. Turns out, I’m just bad with stuff.
I’m perfectly capable of doing laundry, dusting, and the whole other host of 1950s-era perfect housewife activities that still signify “adulting” today. But for years (yes, literally years) of my early 20s, I fretted that I didn’t understand how to “maintain” a home.
And then it hit me: I was asking too much of my brain. It’s asking too much of my brain to have to rearrange a closet to put something away. It’s asking too much of my brain to have to witness appliances and stray books or paperwork on the counter. It’s asking too much of my brain to have to even look at winter scarves or sweaters in my closet when it’s 90 degrees outside.
And, chances are, it’s asking too much of your brain too.
The hands-down most impactful thing I did to turn off the excess brain noise— and make mental space for what matters— was to simplify. I minimized, aggressively at first, and continue to ruthlessly curate my belongings. But I also implemented a number of hacks to quiet the extra noise of my stuff— seriously limiting the frequency of my “SIMPLIFY EVERYTHING NOW” freak-outs.
Systems that quiet the noise (of stuff, that is)
In truth, it has taken me years to come up with systems that seem to work for myself and my family— and especially with little ones, that system feels constantly subject to change. But there are a few things that have been particularly helpful for quieting the noise of stuff— and making my life easier in the process.
Store everything in the ‘right size’ location or bin
Sure, it sounds obvious. But how many times have you had to shove one appliance out of the way to make room for your toaster? Or rearrange the entire medicine basket just to fit the Tylenol bottle? Sometimes, storing things in the ‘right size’ location means admitting you need a larger storage bin for the medications or your child’s stuffed animals— but sometimes it means it’s time to edit your belongings.
Touch It Once
This one still feels like a personal work in progress. But whenever possible, handle each item only once. Instead of depositing dirty clothing onto a dresser or armchair, walk the extra steps to get it all the way in the hamper. Load the coffee mug straight into the dishwasher instead of letting it sit on the counter for hours. Walk the junk mail straight to the recycle bin when you come in the door. You get the idea.
Create stations for items near where you actually use them
Of course, you don’t want to leave your vacuum in the middle of the living room rug, just because that’s where you happen to vacuum. But whenever you can save yourself time— and extra steps— try housing things near their point of use. Maybe that means storing packing tape in the mudroom, because that’s where you box up packages. Or keeping stain remover by the laundry basket, to pre-treat stains before they even make it to the washing machine. The next time you find yourself traipsing across the house for something, think about how you could make the process easier for yourself.
Toy Rotation
I’ve written before about how we manage the influx of toys in our home. The hands-down most impactful step for reducing toys has been to set number and space boundaries on things (particularly toy categories that are prone to suspiciously multiply overnight, such as stuffed animals). As I noted last year, “Sure, 100 Legos can help you design buildings that you couldn’t with just 2 plastic bricks… but 100 Barbies doesn’t create a fundamentally better play experience for your children.”
But I’ve also really noticed how kids gravitate towards anything that appears to be 'new’— whether or not it actually is. So to keep things interesting, I keep some toys on their toy shelf, and others for rotation in a small bin in the closet. While some things— such as favorite dolls, building blocks, and a wooden dollhouse— are pretty much always out, other toys rotate in and out every few weeks. Some people, of course, are fastidious about this toy rotation, but I tend to swap toys out anytime I have a few minutes to spare or notice my children’s interest waning in the toys currently on their shelf.
Seasonal Clothing Storage
To the extent possible, move your seasonal items out of sight for the months you know they won’t be in use. The swap can be simple: Move sweaters and wool socks to another drawer or a closet bin during the summer months, then have them trade places with shorts, tank tops, and other warm weather gear when winter comes. Less to see= less mental load when getting dressed in the morning.
I do something similar with outgrown children’s clothing. My girls have about two years— in other words, typically 2 clothing sizes— between them. In the dreaded ‘in-between’ of storage, I’ve long since stopped lugging bins of clothing from the basement or attic. Instead, I keep a next-size-up basket at the top of their closet, and shift clothing between kiddos effortlessly. (Currently, the next size is dumped unceremoniously into the basket, but I’m considering these partitioned bins instead).
There are also some seriously handy hacks for those of us managing multiple people’s clothing. I personally store everyone’s swim suit together in the same laundry room cubby (after all, very rarely is only one of us going swimming). But possibly the coolest hack I’ve heard others use is to store every family member’s socks in a drawer or bin… right by the shoes. Genius.
Meet Me In the Comments: What other solutions do you use to manage your “stuff”?
The first two things that come to mind for me: starting seasonal decor storage boxes and not allowing myself to buy a new personal care item until I finish my stash. Right now I have a lot of moisturizer to use!
We've been circulating seasonal clothes for years. It is fun to see a fave tshirt show up after 6 or 7 months. Much like a new toy!