home + garden

It’s a new year and everyone has a new mission list.

What’s at the top of mine?  You guessed it -- get organized and get more exercise.

Ugh. Still, I’m committed to making a dent in those messy closets, stuffed toy totes and overflowing files. As well as block out time to burn more calories every day. But how will I squeeze in “Nashville” and “The Good Wife?”

I came up with a brilliant idea: declutter and work out at the same time.

Task: Drive to a store to buy a label maker, a must-have miracle gadget, says every organization expert.
Workout: Park really far away and walk to the entrance and then back to the car three times.

Task: Pull out towels, hair products, boxes of saline solution and Kleenex out of the hall closet and organize it all  in labeled totes.
Workout: Do jumping jacks for one minute.

Task:  Bend over file drawers, culling income tax records from 10 years ago to make room to file new paperwork from three years ago.
Workout:  Bend down and touch my toes 20 times.

Task: Sift through toy bins to determine what to keep and what to donate.
Workout: Do 10 squats by bending my knees and lowering  my body into a squat position as if  I were sitting in an imaginary chair.  Make sure I keep my knees above my ankles.

Task:  Clean the basement storage closet  of  “what was I thinking” ugly home accessories that will never, ever  grace a coffeetable again.

Workout: Stand an arm’s length from the workbench top and do 20 standing push-ups.
 
Task: Lug boxes of storage stuff down the basement stairs.
Workout: Run up and down the stairs 5 times.

That’s my plan and I’m sticking to it —  at least until Feb. 1.

What are some of your strategies for making your home clutter-free in the winter of 2013?


 

As we were doing the big New Year's Eve countdown, my oldest wondered why everyone made such a big fuss, and why on earth anyone would want to be packed into Times Square.

Times Square is all about the experience, I said. And the rest? It's all about possibility.

Possibility, of course, is why there are New Year's resolutions and why Slim-Fast is now front and center with the discounted holiday candy. It's also why stores have begun taunting us with "let us help you get organized" advertisements. They know we're coming off a hectic holiday season, and they're marketing possibility.

Me? I'm a sucker for all things organization. Never met a plastic tote I couldn't fill or a closet system I didn't covet. I believe the world would be a better place if everyone had a label maker and have such a love of filing that I need a filing system for my filing system. Yet at the start of every year, I find myself being swayed by the promises of organized living. I am their target market. Just think of the possibilities.

This year I started by cleaning out the Christmas bins, combining ornament boxes and finally getting rid of anything cracked or broken. I now have my Christmas card list on a spreadsheet and have double-checked this year's addresses with my list, and checked it twice. Yes, I'm off to a great start.

They say out with the old, in with the new, right? Nowhere is this more true than with toys. So buoyed by the promise of possibility, I tackled my son's room -- land of the Legos. Out went the toys and books he's outgrown -- and a very large bag of garbage -- and in with this year's crop of toys and books. Yes, I now have momentum. The possibilities seem endless.

I now have designs on the basement. Saturday is paint the bathroom day; trips to home improvement stores have been planned. Drywall will be patched; there will be more painting. Shelves will be culled, treasures uncovered, lost things found (here's hoping we unearth a cell phone) -- there will most definitely be plastic totes and shelving or cubbies involved. Yes, the possibilities are indeed endless.

Do you find yourself revitalized at the start of a new year? What are you hoping your possibilities are?

The halls were decked, the Christmas tree had lovely branches and although chestnuts were not roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost was surely nipping at our noses. We had Christmas, it was merry, and now I want closure. More importantly, I want my living room back.

A few weeks ago, I had a casual conversation with someone at the dentist office about getti

Ready to be done with the holidays?

I'm not sure when the switch flipped for me. I'm one who loves to leave the tree lit 24/7 leading up to the holidays; the soft glow of the tree makes me feel warm inside.

Now? I look at the soft glow and all I see are legos and bits of wrapping paper and tape on the floor. What seemed warm and cozy just two days ago now seems cramped. Christmas stockings are laid all over the place, their contents leaving a trail from tree to, well, everywhere.

But is too soon to say farewell to the holidays?

When I start to mention de-holidaying I get a few whimpers from the kids, who think that the holiday season should last as long as school's out. When I start to get serious, they usually scatter. Everyone loves putting the tree up, but no one likes taking it down.

More often than not I hold out until New Year's, but each year it's getting more difficult. I'm eager to put everything in its place and start the new year with a clean, organized house. (A girl can dream, right?)

How long do you wait before taking down the holiday decorations? Do you even decorate at all?

There was a time in my life -- before kids, obviously -- that I really felt in control. I had to-do lists that actually got done, I had a relatively clean house, and my free time was, well, free.

But that was then, and this is now. Parenting teaches us many things, and one of the hardest lessons I've learned is that control is often an illusion. And there's nothing like the holidays to keep that notion front and center.

Then: The Christmas tree was a collection of handmade ornaments and carefully selected

Photo from stock.xchng

Then: I spread holiday cheer far and wide, baking treats or making ornaments for friends, family, co-workers and the kids' teachers/instructors. Now: A sheepish grin, hastily written Christmas card and a trip down the aisles of Target or the liquor store at the 11th hour.

Then: When hosting the holidays, I would put out quite a spread, and even would set out the good dishes and serving pieces days ahead to make sure everything was just so. Now: Bring a dish to pass, and you don't mind Chinet, do you?

Then: The entire house had to be in shape (I'd never say spotless), especially over the holidays when guests were frequent. Now: Watch your step, and please don't go into my bedroom or open any closets.

Then: Music played quietly in the background as people talked, laugh and shared a drink. Now: Impromptu piano recitals and band concerts (which have gotten much better with experience).

Then: Would work to get out any spots, stains, etc. that might be in the carpet or on the furniture. Now: A flip of the couch cushions and a throw rug works for me. And candlelight.

Then: I had a craft room -- an entire room. Now: What? I used to have hobbies?

Don't get me wrong, I still wear the Type A banner loud and proud, and there are things I really miss. But as I get older (and quite frankly, more tired), there are certain things just not worth the angst. Embracing the chaos makes for a much more relaxed house, and a much more relaxed mom. Sure, those ornaments I made years ago might be sitting in a box, but I wouldn't trade the macaroni angels for anything.

Do you have a hard time letting go? What was the most difficult thing to give up?

I have immense respect for tradition. I'm usually the one saying, "But we've always done it this way." Or, "the kids will expect it." Or, "Because. Just because."

So I have no explanation, or defense, for what happened this weekend: I changed how we (cough, I) decorate the Christmas tree.

In some ways, I saw this coming. I've been itching to change up things lately, whether it's where I store the flour to which window gets which plant. A bout of the crappiest cold I've had in years slowed me down some, so we were a week behind getting tree up ... and it was smaller than usual ... and I suddenly saw an opportunity.

This year, instead of being loaded with a highly varied collection of ornaments gathered over the past 30 years, our tree now has about two dozen glass balls in shades of green, and about a dozen feathered birds -- the sort you stick into equally fake wreathes or whatnot.

I like it, and the rest of the family has given its blessing, although my husband looked at me a little too closely before nodding, apparently deciding I was a danger to no one.

The fact is, I just couldn't face all those ornaments this year. The ritual of placing each one, which I normally find calming, just sounded annoying this season. I'm not defying Christmas, just some of its habits. And, I'm finding that we survive and may even be reinvigorated. I mean, odds are huge that I will revert to tradition next year, probably because I will want to see the ornaments again.

It's not as if my traditions hadn't already changed. As most married couples know, vows never cover the really important things, like how you decorate your Christmas tree. I moved from being a flocked-and-twinkle-light woman to a colored bulbs and tinsel spouse. The adaptation was only a little painful. Frankly, I never thought I'd change again.

Until this year.

Have you changed long-held traditions, whether in decor, or food, or rituals? Was it accepted? Did you revert the next year? Did it lead to other tweaks? What happens when someone - say in the younger generation - wants to change tradition?