Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Less Is More

The dust has settled in thick layers everywhere, and we can no longer justify the endless hours spent searching for missing items. So with the kids out of the way, (no – they were not the missing items we were searching for!!), we started our spring tidying with a vengeance.

Lest you think that we subject the kids to this state of madness daily, let me assure you that things had to get worse before they got better. So this is when things were at their worst.

BEFORE


Living Room


Entrance Hallway


Children's Play Area

Photos were strewn everywhere, the result of a long overdue (it’s been 2 years since we moved here) attempt to put up some family mug shots. Drawers and cupboards were turned out, in the vain hope of disposing of some of the contents. Christmas music was played to spread some cheer and drown out the sound of my disgruntled muttering at Hubby’s hoarding tendencies, the extent of which will be written up in another post.

After a good two weeks of consistent, after-work tidying, the end still seemed no closer in sight. In near panic at the thought that the kids would be back soon, we actually welcomed the flood-induced cancellation of our Taman Negara trip as this bought us more time to complete the tidying. I never thought I’d see the day when I’d willingly pass up a holiday to Taman Negara to clean house. Aargh! I am slowly but surely turning into a domesticated old woman. Anyway, 5 garbage bagfuls of rubbish later, here are the results of our blood, sweat and tears…

AFTER


Living Room


Entrance Hallway


Children's Play Area

Allow me to share with you some insights gained from this experience of spring tidying

1) Avoid it at all costs. Can be achieved by zealously throwing out all junk mail and clutter, preferably at point of entry. Unfortunately, Hubby finds credit card and supermarket mailers scintillating reading while sitting on the throne, and vetoed my idea for the placement of a dustbin at the front door for junk disposal. Sigh! File or put away everything else instantly, and get the kids to do the same. They’re slightly easier to train than husbands.

2) Institute an in-out policy. For every new item that comes into the house, at least one old item (preferably larger in size) has to leave in order to make space. This is not wastage, but wise resource management. Sell off your pre-loved items via websites such as http://www.lelong.com.my/ or http://www.ebay.com.my/,
and let someone else experience the joy the item gave you. Better yet, give them away. NOTE: The only exception to this rule is children – they’re the only ones who get to stay!

3) If it must be done, do it when the kids are not around. That way, when you’re ready to call it a day, you can just drop everything and know that curious little hands will not come and move things around or break a treasured family heirloom (which you kinda forgot you even had until your momentary excavation unearthed it. Now, where did I put it again?).

4) Have a sense of humour about the whole exercise. A wise woman once told me that when she was confronted with the decision of whether to have a clean house and lose her husband, or keep her husband (and the clutter he generated), she chose the latter. As a result, my parents’ home always looks lived-in and homey (so long as you don’t open the cupboards or enter the store room) and I have a good model of marriage to follow.

Thursday, December 6, 2007

They Love Us, They Love Us Not, They Love Us…

From the time the kids flew off to Grandma’s, an eerie stillness descended on our home. Three glorious weeks of blessed peace, the luxury of curling up with a good book and knowing I could actually finish it without interruption.

They say you never really know how much you miss something until it’s no longer around. In six years, I’d never been away from them for longer than a weekend – and I had no idea I’d miss them this badly. Gone were the spontaneous hugs, slobbery kisses and endless chatter. Heck, I was even beginning to miss the screaming, squealing, squabbling and whining. Obviously, the sudden ‘overdose’ of peace and quiet was driving me a little crazy.

I thought about them almost every spare minute, and resisted the urge to call them several times a day. It would be nice to say that they missed us as much as we missed them, but Hubby and I were soon painfully aware that we were no match for the combined force of 16 cousins and 21 days of unbridled play. Son was reluctant to abandon playtime to speak to us, and only did so to launch into a string of complaints about his sister and various other offending cousins. Daughter was a little more responsive, and passionately declared her love for us … and for the 3 pairs of new shoes her aunts bought her.

Is this what the Empty Nest syndrome feels like? I guess we should be happy that the kids are secure enough to be away from us for so long. After all, the goal of parenting is to raise kids who are happy, secure and independent, right? We should grab this chance to take that holiday to Taman Negara, the one we’d put on hold for a few years due to the un-kid-friendly nature of the wild and untamed outdoors.

All that remains is to quell the rising bout of kid-sickness welling up inside me. “The kids are happy, secure and independent. And I look forward to our holiday in Taman Negara.” Repeat 1,000 times. Or maybe we’re lousy parents, and they can’t wait to get away from us? “We’re good parents and our kids are happy, secure and independent. We’re good parents and our kids are happy, secure and independent.” Repeat 1,000 times.