Quasi-hoarding

Hi, my name is Erin, and I'm a quasi-hoarder.

(Hi, Erin)

Well, the 'process' of moving is officially underway.  I've met with the moving company and a realtor in the past 24 hours.  In another 24 hours, the kids and I are heading for Houston so we can spend our weekend house hunting.  Next week, the movers will come and pack us up, load it [all] onto a truck, and head toward TX.  The realtor I met with today had great things to say about our current home, and anticipates that it won't spend much time on the market (prayers for that to be a true statement are greatly appreciated!).  He did, however, give me a few pointers for things that will inevitably help it show better.  I already had anticipated what his list included...patching nail holes, touching up paint here and there, and [of course] de-cluttering.  With the movers coming in to 'do their thing' starting Wednesday, he's hopeful we can get photos taken on Tuesday to put it on the market (the sooner the better).

Stress level: high alert

Seven years in a house, three young kids, a conglomeration of memories from our own childhoods, and several beloved hobbies (read: a lot of 'stuff' to carry them out)...it all equates to a lot of stuff.  Emphasis on 'lot'.

Living here each day, using all of the 'stuff' on a daily basis, it's easy to allow the 'stuff' to blend in, to seem insignificant and second nature to the existence we've become accustomed.

Enter the movers.  Or the realtor.  As we walked room by room both yesterday and today, I became *glaringly* aware of the sheer volume of 'stuff' that we've accumulated and will need to transport to our new home in Texas.  I don't even know if 'glaringly aware' describes the feelings I had...it was on the verge of embarrassed.

Crafting supplies, toys, scrapbooking accessories, baking pans and tools, garage contents--tools, tools, kids toys, and tools, a kitchen *full* of utensils and pots and plates...and then there's my closet.  Oy.  So.Much.Stuff.  All of which I've deemed as 'necessary'.  I know that life would go on if we didn't have it any longer, and I know that you 'can't take it with you'...but these things are what we've come to know as 'ours'...and we are having a hard time paring down any more than we already have.  Would I react the way that some of the troubled people featured on the hoarding shows do if their things are moved out of their home?  No.  But would I be happy about it?  Not at all.

Up until a week ago, I was a full time working mommy with three little kids, two dogs, and a husband with an odd schedule.  Housework was one of the tasks that fell by the wayside moreso than I'd like to admit.  We by no means live in squalor, but the standards I've set for myself have been coming up shy the more children I have!  I like to call our house 'lived in', a term that I've borrowed from a friend, and adopted for the look of our house.  Toys are inevitably strewn about in one [more often more than one] room, the dust bunnies gather beneath the bookshelf and my baking cabinet, children's books never quite find their way back to their spot nestled between Horton Hears a Who and There's a Wocket in my Pocket.  The endless cycle of dishes and laundry coupled with the long hours and demands of mommyhood have kept our home from being 'company ready'.

Both of the guys I met with reassured my frazzled and apologetic self that they've seen worse--a *lot* worse--and that the status of our home is completely 'normal'.

It still makes me feel anxious.  I have *so* much organizing, sorting, paint touch-ups, packing, and cleaning to do over the next few days...and my quasi-hoarding tendencies are facing me head on as I learn to embrace my new role as a stay at home mommy (who also happens to be preparing for a huge move!)

I know that things will sort themselves out and I'll look back on this time with a smidgen extra pride in the fact that I was able to stay [remotely] sane through the process, surrounded by not just our 'stuff', but our three sweet munchkins as well!