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Clutter War II: Attack of the Giant Baby
Merlin Mann | Apr 21 2008
As of next Sunday, our lovely daughter will have been with our houshold for six months (Happy Half-Birthday, Eleanor). It's a good arrangement, and we're all pretty happy about the whole thing so far. But, to look around our house, you'd think we were raising a small army of babies, each of whom has their own Amazon Prime account and an addiction to things that are shaped like giraffes.
Oh my, the stuff. The baby stuff. Everywhere. Means of conveyance, swingy seat, Bumbo, squeaky toys, fuzzy toys, toys for biting and bending, jammies, jackets, socks that do and don't look like shoes, amusing hats, blankets, books, rattles, pacifiers, cleaning supplies, extra diapers -- plus of course, there's the raw tonnage of stuff belonging to the caretaking adults that has been displaced or disused as a result of the occupying baby's needs. It is a scene, man, I can assure you. And there's not an iota of blame to place on the actual baby; it's all us (and mostly me). [By the bye, for an illuminating look at the perils of the creeping ParentCrap industry, have a look at Parenting, Inc. It's chilling. And, for me, personally damning.]
At any rate, as we approach that august 183-day mark in our little girl's life, you might be able to guess where my head is right now. Yep. It's on clutter, and on what I need to do to get my face back into Peter Walsh's excellent de-cluttering book as a means for regaining domestic sanity and striding toward the possibility of a life without tripping, piling, or losing what's left of my sleep-deprived mind.
But let's start with first principles:
It's All Too Much
by Peter Walsh
Well, obviously for me, it starts with re-reading It's All Too Much (isbn.nu | library search). As I've said before, this is a fantastic book that distinguishes itself by helping you understand why you have clutter, rather than just trying to help you find new places to store and "organize" it. Author Peter Walsh encourages you to imagine the life you really want, and then ruthlessly purge the items that are keeping that vision from becoming a reality. Pure gold.
Now, if you don't have the time or inclination to look at the book with me right now, or if you're one of those smarty boffins who points out that this would represent yet another piece of clutter -- or even just to bring existing Peter fans back up to speed -- here's some posts from my previous excursion into the world of It's All Too Much. It was a bracing sprint that helped me rid myself of crap that had been doing nothing for my life for years:
Thing is, I now return to this book and this mission with a renewed level of resolve because I have to face the previously unthinkable; we must convert Dad's entropic home office into a nursery suitable for a shiny little baby who doesn't appear to enjoy sleeping on USB cables and books about developing in ShockWave (yes, thanks, there's still lots of "low-hanging fruit" remaining).
So this new adventure begins. I hope to share some of this parent-focused de-cluttering with you over the next couple weeks, so pop back by if that appeals. For what it's worth, I hope it will also have tidbits that appeal to the child-free or child-neutral amongst you.
As I returned to It's All Too Much in the last week, I was struck by a line that sounded like something straight out of my Time & Attention talk. In introducing a chapter on the excuses most people give for suffering clutter, Peter Walsh says:
And it's true. Or putting just a slightly sharper point on it, it might be said that "Everything in your home remains there with your permission." That clutter becomes a tiresome houseguest that you just don't have the heart to throw out. And he keeps inviting his messy friends who also have decided to camp out on every available surface.
So, if you're the sort of put-together life hacker who would never accept a lame project or a pointless task, what sense is there in not applying the same rigor to your surroundings? Exactly.
Anyhow, here I go. Wish us luck. And, as ever, I hope you'll share your thoughts on how you beat the crap back after your little one arrived and took over. I'd love for Eleanor's second six months to take place in a comfortable, clutter-free house that baby, parents, and giraffes alike can enjoy.
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