Messy, Messy, Messy

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I am falling behind on my blog.  I have been busy.  For those of you who
don’t know, I started a Mom’s group with my friend Becky.  We’re called “Urban Baby Denver” and you can check us out here:  http://www.urbanbabydenver.com

The Moms group came about…well…partially because I was frustrated by the lack of moms groups downtown (most were way out in the burbs, go figure) and really because I met Beck.  As Mike puts it, I “met my match”.  Becky doesn’t just do something…she does it 150%.  And she does it HAPPILY.  She brings the sun like it’s her job.  I love this.
I get people like this.  Apathetic?  Drives me nuts.  But ring-the-bells-call-a-parade-let’s-get-EXCITED-people….I’m in.  Loving it.  So yes – we are crazy busy.  We have music classes, cooking clubs, book clubs, playdates, pool and museum outings, trips to the park, etc.  Raines and I are out doing something everyday.  It’s a blast.

There is a downside to so much fun.  My house.  Is scary.  It looks – and has looked (since my Mom left in Feb) – like a bomb went off.  For instance, from where I’m siting on the couch, I can see:  laundry that needs folding, blocks, bills, various cords for my laptop, phone, camera, recyclables, things to return, things to donate, books, magazines (all unread), blankets, a random diaper wipe that still has poop on it and one baby sock.  (Taking inventory like this cannot be good for my health.  I can feel my stress level rising as I sit here.) My house has never – I repeat – NEVER looked like this.  But it has looked this way for the last 6 months.  Every once in a while we’ll have people over, and go running about in preparation  – throwing things into random locations (Mike) or just getting fed up and trying to pitch it out with the garbage (me).  It usually ends up in a closet to hide the insanity.  Or behind the couch.

(Behind the couch is Mike’s new “barely hidden” location.  His last “barely hidden” place was our balcony — he “hid” our old Christmas tree out there, telling me it had been thrown away.  I didn’t actually discover it until May.  Chucking a Blue Spruce over a two-story balcony where it has been drying out for 5 months WILL result in a pine needle explosion like you have NEVER seen. )

Anywho.  You get the picture.

So many magazine articles encourage you (along with helpful pictures of clean, serene rooms and closets) to SIMPLIFY as a way of keeping it together when your life is busy.  In the past, I’ve always translated the simplify message into “go to Target and buy a brand-new storage system, the more expensive the better, then clean out the room/closet/drawer, create three piles – keep, store, throw out, implement new filing/storing/throwing system only to forget it until I decide – at some point in the future – to SIMPLIFY once again.”   But perhaps the real meaning to “simplify” isn’t to have a perfect looking house, with everything in it’s proper place…but rather, perhaps the real meaning behind “simplify” is to simply do less.  But less what?  I feel like the adult answer would be things like “less Facebook” or “fewer happy hours”.  But Facebook and happy hours are fun.  Watching Raines grow daily before my eyes makes me see – in a panic-inducing kind of way – just how short life is.  If I’m going to simplify by doing less, I’m not going to give up the fun.  I’m not going to give up time with Raines or time with my husband.  I’m not giving up on my Urban Baby outings.  I’m not giving up on glasses of wine, or the occasional bubble bath or writing or reading books or SLEEP.  So I guess that means, then, that most of the time my house will look like a bomb went off.

So next time you’re over, don’t look behind the couch.

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