Your home is a little like a tiny ecosystem. Things have to be in balance in order to feel that comfort that you yearn for that only home gives you.
There are three things that make up that ecosystem:
When one of the three items in the ecosystem is not in balance, you lose the comfort that you so crave at the end of each day.
I used to have a home that was not in balance. It was a cluttered, disorganized mess.
This is the thing with disorganization.
It creates nothing but sheer frustration. It’s like this annoying little mite that rears its head at the worst possible moments.
Have you ever woken up late because your alarm clock didn’t go off?
Your phone battery died in the middle of the night (because you couldn’t find the charger) and you wake up in that cold sweat type of panic because without looking at the clock you can tell by the way the sun is coming in the window that it is WAY too late to be waking up?
Here’s how that type of morning would go for me when I was disorganized.
I’d jump out of bed and yell to the entire house,
And then I’d dig through a pile of clothes (because your dresser drawers are OVERFLOWING, so why bother putting stuff away, as if you have the time to anyway) to find something reasonably clean and unwrinkled that would suffice for wearing to work.
I’d hustle the kids up and when I discovered there were NO clean socks for my daughter and NO clean underwear for my son, I’d hustle to the basement to rapid fire sort through whatever was in the dryer and pray to the laundry gods that there was at LEAST a clean pair of underwear for my son.
Clutching the underwear and the mismatched (at least they were clean) socks, I’d charge back up the stairs, already yelling at my husband to PLEASE microwave some Pop Tarts (I know they aren’t really a great breakfast, but I only have time for easy) and in the next breath start yelling at the kids to HURRY UP (of course I’m yelling, I woke up in a panic, the adrenaline is flowing and I can’t stop myself).
Then begins the mad dash for all the things that are needed when you leave the house in the morning.
The keys? (Who knows where those might be?)
The back packs? (Oh they are probably on the dining room table, but good luck shoving all of the papers and books and pencils and protractors back inside them.)
The lunches? (HA! Yeah right, we don’t get home made lunches even on a good day, it’s cafeteria and take out food every day because who has time to make LUNCH in the morning?)
Did anyone brush their teeth? Or their hair? (Ok, probably we got those two things done because those would be the most obvious outward signs that our family is a disaster and can’t even keep our hair combed and GOD forbid we suffer that embarrassment.)
So we might look just in a mild disarray as we stop yelling at each other a moment before opening the front door and calmly sashaying to the car so that the neighbors don’t stare.
We look nonchalant about being a second away from being late for school and work. We’re cool like that.
But underneath that?
I want to cry.
The kids want to cry.
My husband is, well, he is probably actually nonchalant about being close to being late because none of this seems to bother him somehow which only serves to make me REALLY want to cry.
And that’s the first twenty minutes of a day in a disorganized household. Sound familiar?
Why do I feel like I want to cry?
Because disorganization feels like something you don’t have control over. It seems like a misplaced gene or possibly even a fairy that comes into the house every night and moves everything around just to ruin your day.
Because disorganization made me feel out of control and frustrated, I yelled at my kids and my husband.
Disorganization is making me feel like a failure before I even walk out the door.
It’s a wonder I held in the tears.
It was a morning like that when I said, that’s it, I’m done with living like this, I’m making a change. I’m figuring this out and we’re getting Organized. With a capital O.