When I started my simplify101 class, I thought I was going to organize one space. I wasn’t sure which one and I didn’t take the best photographs. I ended up tackling all of my kid spaces, and I wanted to share the results with my daughter’s room.
The problem here is basically that my mother’s prayers that I would have a daughter just like me have been answered. 🙂 Clothes, hair pretties, and an ugly kleenex box were issues as were wanting to keep everything on the dresser.
The swimsuit on the floor problem has been previously discussed, but notice there are no dolls in the doll furniture. They are cluttering up the closet instead.
There are multiple problems here, some of which aren’t pictured. My husband was taking up half the closet with suit coats he wasn’t wearing (no matter what he tells you). On the upper shelves of the closet were stacks of off-season and outsized clothing that my daughter would occasionally pull down, resulting in a mess. An ugly day of the week organizer was being used to store clothing that didn’t fit in her drawers and the plastic container of hair pretties (when it wasn’t somewhere else). Lots of stuffed animals and toys were overflowing the storage containers.
My daughter is too much like her mother. Regular cleaning is booooooring, but organizing is great fun. She’s quite good at it. In no time at all, she had gotten rid of many of her hair bows and stuffed animals. Together, this is what we accomplished:
Clothes hae been put away. Yay!
We moved some things from her dresser (not as many as I might like!) and I bought her a new tissue box and a mirror. With five brothers, she doesn’t get enough bathroom time! Her hair pretties are now trimmed down enough to fit inside a drawer organizer in her dresser.
Dolls in the doll furniture frees up closet space.
So did making the top bunk a home for the stuffed animals.
Unfortunately, this is a bad shot, but I want to finish this post, so we’ll stick with it! The plastic drawers from Target store doll clothing which used to float all over the closet. My husband decluttered his clothes. Yay! The large white fabric baskets, also from Target, contain outsized and off-season clothes. The basket can now be used to hold all the little goodies my daughter seems to collect. I have a flower-shaped cork board on order for her, which will also help.
I used Microsoft Word to make some labels that should hopefully prevent Little Miss from pulling these down to see what’s in them.
Finally, in going through years of the kids’ paperwork, I found this painting by my daughter when she was a preschooler that I absolutely love. I put it in a magnetic art frame from Target and put it outside her door. In case you’re wondering, we ordered her bed online. I saw it for sale painted and it was just too expensive. Then I discovered that we could order the bed mostly assembled but unpainted for much less. My husband spent a long time painting it in our garage. When we finally put it together, our UPS delivery man who had watched the progress, wanted to come in and see it! Of course, we obliged.
Hope you have some girl’s bedroom inspiration today!
Have I ever mentioned that I homeschool six kids? As a result, I have stuff. A lot of stuff. Not only do we have a lot of toys and games (multiply just six gifts a year times six and you’ll see my problem. Of course, they get more than six gifts each!).
I have spent years coming up with systems for keeping toys, games, and puzzles organized. I have definitely found some approaches that work. For example, storing games vertically works better than horizontally or in bins. What also works is using our old ping pong table to provide storage for suitcases and bins underneath. What isn’t working is the putting away part.
Not only do I have six kids full-time, but I have had 11 more joining us for homeschool activities on Fridays. Our super fun co-op activities require lots and lots of art supplies. Using them is fun. Putting them away isn’t.
As you can see, I’ve tried clever strategies for storing paints and underneath the bench are more art supplies.
Yet another problem with our storage area is that it isn’t just for kids. We keep our gifts, gift wrapping supplies, electronic accessories, party supplies, and seasonal decorations here, too.
In our playroom is a second closet we use for costume storage. This is another area where I need A LOT because of our co-op activities. This year we had to dress for the Revolutionary War and for Africa.
I was determined to get control of these areas while participating in my simplify101 class and to be ready for next school year. The good news is I no longer have toddlers or preschoolers. In theory, the kids should be of help. 🙂 I did enlist everyone’s help in decluttering. The approach that works best for me is to lay out a blanket on the playroom floor. Any of the kids may take items that they wish to donate to the blanket. Anything not worthy of donating goes directly to trash bags. This system works beautifully because everyone can see what is ostensibly being donated. Otherwise the older child gleefully puts all the younger’s favorite toys out for donation. Likewise any educational items would go bye-bye without my watchful eye. My husband played a crucial role in boxing up all the donated items and drove them to the charity the same day.
I haven’t shown you every part of the storage room (there are other shelves that were organized and hidden bins that were emptied), but these are the results!
The red bucket on the right is my solution for keeping this room organized. Anything that needs to be put away goes in the bucket, NOT on the table. When it’s full, it will be emptied.
My other idea was to put plastic tablecloths I already owned on the ping pong table. The paint is chipping off of it anyway and it creates a don’t-mess-me-up atmosphere that partners well with the red tub.
The biggest job with the craft and seasonal storage areas was to throw things out.
I was able to get rid of enough stuff that I could keep a bin of other costume basics that was being stored with the toys and games. As you can see, I am continuing to store outsized shoes here.
Hope I’ve inspired you to unload toys, crafts, or costumes that you don’t use, need, or love!
Summer is organizing time for me. Homeschooling six kids means LOTS to organize. This summer I signed up for Simplify101’s Organizing with Kids online class. I have absolutely loved the ideas and the inspiration. I thought I would share my projects with you.
The first project I’m going to share is the last room I want to go into: the kids’ upstairs bath. I have FIVE boys and ONE girl using one bathroom. Need I explain more? Aby’s class really helped me evaluate the problems I was having with this room.
You see two of the problems in the above photo: the kids leave towels and swimsuits on the floor. In the past I might have just thought about how MISBEHAVED the kids were and gotten nowhere. The truth is they didn’t have a good place to hang wet swimsuits and towels. One or two people can store these things on the shower railing, but six CANNOT. An additional problem I had with the towels was knowing whose was whose. While I had long ago bought each child a specific color towel, the kids managed to mess up that system by arguing that their color was the turquoise blue and not the deep blue. They had also begun ignoring the color system completely. Most of the towels were very worn, so I was ready to make a change.
I decided I wanted to get the kids personalized towels to solve the problem. I also wanted each child to have a place to hang wet swimsuits. This is what I came up with:
I can’t even explain how giddy I am over this. I ordered the towels from PotteryBarn Teen. I was set to get even cuter towels from PotteryBarn kids, but I wanted bigger towels, especially now that I have TWO teens in the house. These towels are so luxurious! The hooks I bought from Home Depot. A smaller hook holds the kids’ swimsuits underneath the towel. The kids do leave their clothes in the bathroom after showering, too, but I do not want a clothes hamper in here holding a mix of things. Instead, I will be checking the bathroom daily and making the offenders return their dirty clothing to their respective hampers.
Problem #2 was a jumble of toiletries. I had attempted to solve the problem with labeled plastic drawers. These were ignored and no one had any idea whose toothbrush, toothpaste, and hair brush was whose. A collosal mess was made in the two drawers under the sink.
I figured the answer had to have something to do with the closet, whose space was being poorly used.
This was my answer. I bought mesh toiletry bags for each kid from Amazon for under $5 each. I also bought second towels in turquoise with the kids’ names embroidered in white to use alternate weeks.
I quickly grabbed scrapbooking supplies to label each kid’s bag. The kids did the rest using my LetraTag label maker. Not only are the bags labeled, but everything inside is, too.
One of the important aspects of this class is that the kids be involved. I was thrilled that my daughter wanted to clean the sink. I should have asked her to pay me to do it, Huckleberry Finn style. 🙂
Here’s the sink after. I have since purchased bathroom cups and a SpongeBob soap dispenser. I leave the dental rinse and cleaning wipes out so they will be used, even though it doesn’t look as neat.
So that’s my bathroom organizing project with the kids. I look forward to showing you the other projects soon!
When I got married and finished my Ph.D. in psychology, I wanted to start a family. My plan was to work part-time. I really thought it was the perfect plan. At least until I had a baby.
I couldn't fathom turning my baby over to someone else. I cried when I was on maternity leave and told my husband, "He doesn't want me to go back to work." My husband was scared of me from the pregnancy/childbirth ordeal, so he just said, "OK." I felt sick when I left my 8-week-old baby with a woman I barely knew. Everyone told me I would get over it.
It was nice to get back to the job I enjoyed and to see my colleagues. But it wasn't long before my perfect plan didn't seem so perfect. On my work days, I had time to bathe and feed my baby after I picked him up, but then it was time for him to go to sleep. I felt like I didn't even get to see him. I loved my off-days with him, but as I saw him change in new and exciting ways on those days, I wondered what I was missing on the days I worked.
Things were okay until we were finally off the waiting list to get our son into a daycare within a nursing home. There were only three other babies and several toddlers in the daycare. I liked that it was small and that he would be around older people. I didn't have to wait long for him to get sick, however. The daycare called and said my baby had a fever and I would have to come get him. I had to cancel appointments, pick up my son, and take him to the doctor. My pediatrician examined him, said he had an ear infection, and pronounced, "It's because he's in daycare."
I don't remember what I thought when my pediatrician said that. I was a brand-new mom and a brand-new psychologist. I was making a lot of adjustments. I probably thought that this was just part of being a working mom that I would have to adjust to. My baby got better and I took him back to daycare. I got another phone call. He had a fever, so I cancelled my appointments and took him back to the doctor. The doctor diagnosed another ear infection and said, "It's because he's in daycare."
This became a script for my life and my poor baby's life that we replayed every week or two. During one doctor's visit, my pediatrician warned that if he got another ear infection, we would have to consider tubes. Once again, the doctor said, "It's because he's in daycare." I went home that day and sat at the kitchen table with my head in my hands and cried. I needed a new plan.
My husband and my boss agreed that I could cut back to working two evenings a week. When my husband was out of town those nights, his sister-in-law agreed to take care of the baby. From the day that I decided to stay home, my son never had another ear infection. I, however, continued to have some pain. I faced the disdain of people who thought I was wasting my education staying home and the pain of loneliness and a confused identity. I went through several months of depression. I eventually invited several mom acquaintances from church to join me for a Bible study. I made friends and peace with who I was. My baby and I were both feeling better.
Today I marvel that God used a pediatrician who wasn't politically correct to call me home. My first baby will be 15 on Monday.
4 Then they can urge the younger women to love their husbands and children, 5 to be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind, and to be subject to their husbands, so that no one will malign the word of God. (Titus 2:4-5)
From childhood, I suffered from night time fear, but not of the dark or monsters. Mine was a more sophisticated fear. I was terrified that someone would break into my home and hurt me or my family. My parents were sound sleepers and I was convinced that it was up to me to save us all.
My sleepless nights where every noise seemed to be evidence of a horrific scene about to unfold became even worse when I lived alone. My first year of graduate school, I lived amidst a wife beater, an alcoholic who thought I ought to be counseling him, and a stalker who called me repeatedly and left me notes. Many nights I could barely breathe because the fear was so overpowering. I prayed for God's protection many, many times. After I got married and practiced as a Christian counselor, I asked God for relief from the fear itself.
Having a husband who is a black belt in jujitsu did not stop the fear, in part because he traveled a lot when we were first married. To cope, I had a security alarm put in and used a door brace under my bedroom door handle. Yep, I was completely phobic. I didn't get a dog to deal with my fear, but the fact that I had a little yapper who responded to anyone in the vicinity of our home, added to my feeling of security.
One weekend evening, I was battling a bad cold. We had been invited to a friend's party two hours away and I was fine with my husband going without me. He said he would be staying overnight with them as he often did while traveling for work. After he left, I went through my security routine. I turned off the power for the garage door opener, locked all the doors, and baracaded my bedroom door after I was sure my dog was with me.
In the middle of the night (2 or 3 a.m.), someone knocked on my front door. I had heard on the news once (I am sure all my fear developed from the news!) that robbers will often knock on the door to see if you are home and if you don't answer, they will break in. I wasn't going to let them think no one was home! My dog was barking furiously. I turned on the television and hoped whoever it was would move on.
Unfortunately, the knocking became more insistent. I turned up the volume on the TV. My dog was wild. Then my greatest fear became a reality. I could hear the person trying to break in. I ran to the bathroom, locked the door, picked up the phone and dialed 911. I could barely breathe as I explained to the nice man who answered what was going on. He reassured me an officer was on his way. He asked me where Mr. Wilson was. I told him while I picked up a can of hairspray to use as a weapon.
That's when I heard the most terrifying noise possible. Someone was IN my house. I relayed that information to the nice man and tried not to notice that he sounded frightened, too. He kept speaking to me in a calming voice. I could hear whoever it was rattling my baracaded bedroom door. I was living my nightmare! That's when I heard, "Melanie! It's me!"
I told the nice man that the would-be attacker was my husband. He laughed and I could tell that he was more relieved than I was. I honestly was NOT relieved, but furious at my husband for putting me through the ordeal. He explained that he hadn't been able to get into the house since I shut off the garage door opener. After I cried with relief and laughed at the absurdity of it all, I found that my lifelong fear was gone. All those years, what I was really afraid of was that I wouldn't be able to move if someone broke into my home. Now I know they better look out!
Although an unusual answer to prayer, God used my husband's break-in to take my fear away. Once again, He did for me what I could not do for myself.
Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)
I assumed I would meet my husband-to-be in college and would be married in my early twenties. When that didn't happen and I had no prospects in graduate school, I felt pretty hopeless. The relationships I did have couldn't have been more dysfunctional. I wish I could say my initial relationship with my husband was different, but it wasn't.
I met my husband in a bar after he hit on my engaged friend. Romantic, huh? He had had several beers so when he asked for my phone number, I told him I wouldn't write it down. If he remembered it after I said it once, fine. I was very surprised to hear from him the next evening. We began dating sporadically when he happened to be in town.
He did just about everything wrong. I won't recount his dating sins for you, lest you despise him as I did. I broke up with him after several dates and was as surprised by his response as I was that he remembered my phone number (he later admitted he ran to his vehicle and wrote my number down when I was in the bathroom). After my inital breakup, he told me he didn't blame me. He apologized for his bad behavior and committed to changing. I was so impressed with his attitude that I gave him another try. (I didn't understand at the time that my husband was a true salesman).
It wasn't long, however, before I had had enough and broke up with him again. He gave me the same contrite response and added in some roses. I didn't have anyone else in the wings, so I took him back once again. Everything was going okay until he left for three weeks. He called me while he was gone and rather than say he missed me, he joked about the matter that had resulted in the last breakup.
I was so disgusted that I went out with a girlfriend and latched onto a guy whose only date-worthy characteristic was that he repeatedly said, "You're hot." I spent enough time with the 6'6" 300 pound guy to discover that he, too, could be quite irritating. But when my now husband returned from his trip, I broke the news to him that we were through. I was shocked by how emotionally he took the news. But I didn't relent, even when he called later and tried to change my mind several times. In an effort to confirm to myself that I had made the right decision, I decided to take the new big boyfriend to my cousin's wedding back home. He didn't own any clothing besides sweats, so I "lent" him the money to buy something to wear to the wedding.
My mother was mortified when she met him, but I couldn't worry about that. At least I had a date for the wedding. He sat head and shoulders above everyone else. Everything was fine until the soloist (a family friend) was singing while the bride and groom struggled to light the unity candle. Everyone began giggling and best as I can surmise, the soloist thought they were laughing at him. He completely choked. That's when the buffoon I was sitting next to said in his deep booming voice, "Wow, he's a really terrible singer."
I was the one mortified now. I elbowed him and shushed him only to have him say even louder, "Well, he IS terrible." As I sat there taking stock of my life, I suddenly had a vision of me marrying the guy I'd dumped. I had this sense of peace that could only be from God, despite my embarrassment. I knew in my heart of hearts that I was supposed to be with my other bad boyfriend. That sense of peace didn't keep me from chewing out the big fool for his lack of social skills as we left the church.
Unfortunately, there was more to be mortified about. My date began shoveling the food into his mouth before the bride and groom arrived at the reception–no plate or silverware. Everyone stood and gawked at him. One of my aunts giggled, "Is it serious?" Before we left, my date met my cousin and commented on her cleavage. I guess she was supposed to be flattered? When the reception was over, I wasted no time telling Mr. No Social Skills that it was over. While he snored away that night, I told my mom that I was going to marry my other boyfriend. She wasn't reassured.
Once back at grad school, I called my three-strikes-and-you're-out boyfriend and asked if we could get together. He seemed as surprised to get my phone call as I was to get his very first call. When we got together, we established some ground rules for the relationship. Five months later we were engaged. Today as I write, I have been married to this man for almost 19 years.
I like to say that ours was not a fairy tale romance, but you know, maybe it is. There was a suitor with much to learn, an ogre, a separation, a reunion, and a love that will surely last forever. Only God could have given this story a happy ending.
My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. (John 15:12)
I’m a Christian psychologist turned homeschooling mother of six. My life can be a little crazy, so I look for sanity-saving ideas to use and share. I hope you’ll read my About page to learn more.
