The husband of local architect collects Pokémon cards. When I asked her where to buy a big box of cheap commons, she handed me a pile that I passed onto the kids.
That became a giant mess on the floor, way past bedtime!
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I'm learning that cleaning up is a slow necklace of focused moments.
Each attempt at organizing takes way longer than planned. But if you tackle each clean-up endeavor as a focused chip off a giant boulder, you'll make a dent over time.
Last Saturday we finally put up shelves in the garage. Sunday, I threw the mess up on the wall. Admittedly this just made a vertical wreck, but it was nice to see the concrete slab again.
This morning, I sorted through the stuff, consolidated the boxes, and we now enjoy a tidy garage.
Onto the house (a small corner at a time)!
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There’s a lot of beauty and wisdom in how happy a box of “common” collectibles can make children
I feel your pain. Every time I visit my daughter's family, the "living room" is wall-to-wall toys. When they moved in three years ago, this large space held a few playthings for their rug-rat son. He learned to walk in that open space. Now, his rug-rat sister can't move more than a foot or two in any direction with a barrier of toys in her way. While the adults manage to step between the individual bits of debris, the boy simply stumbles over everything. It's a wonder he hasn't dashed his head in a fall. Years ago, I would pick up and organize the growing number of toys, but now that I'm older and more tired and stiff, the piles of blocks, race tracks with cars, stuffed animals, books, and whatever is so daunthing, I just sit there and look at it in dismay. I asked my daughter if I could go through it all and take away some things that may no longer be useful and she said, "Oh, but he still plays with it all." sigh. And now we have a little girl who is getting her own toys to add to his that she plays with. MAKE IT STOP!