Continuing on to the kitchen, I am greeted by random Cheerios on the floor, not to mention other wrappers, rubber bands, and litter that has not been swept up recently. Our kitchen is actually one long room that contains the dining room and TV room and that means I can see the mess that is normally called the dining table. Chili splotches that did not get wiped up from the night before, more school papers and such scattered about, etc. The entrance to the downstairs is actually blocked by a random plastic bag and my daughter's Adidas gym bag.
Which, right there, I should have taken as a sign to NOT go downstairs. The downstairs is mostly the domain of my husband's office, my laundry room, and the two older kids' bedrooms.
And it is trashed. We're talking craaaaap everywhere. Dirty clothes and craft stuff.
I think you can probably guess what happened next. Mom freaks out (film at eleven).
I've only been home two weeks. Two weeks, two meltdowns. I feel trapped by this house and everything in it. But, the question of course, where to begin? I *want* to live smaller, there's no doubt about it, but how?
Enter the Dragon.
Martial artist Bruce Lee says it best: "It's not the daily increase, but the daily decrease. Hack away at the unessential."
Indeed. It's the unessential that is driving me crazy. But, what is unessential to me is totally essential to my husband. Or my children.
We are preparing for a garage sale later this month, and our garage is becoming full of things that are unessential to us right now. Whatever doesn't get sold will probably be donated. And then, we'll begin the culling process again, I reckon. Until someday, when we have our things pared down to the essentials and we have one (or zero) child left in the house...then we can move into one of these:
This is the 'Linden' model of house, available at Tumbleweed Tiny House Company. Two bedrooms, 177 square feet of usable space, totally mobile.
That is the end game right there, readers. Small home, small living.