Ukraine Adoption

In a box

I'm spending my little bit of spare time with my head stuck in a closet. Every closet. One by one. First the coat and boot closet in the main hallway, which had become the closet with the tennis racquets, 15 single unmatched mittens and gloves, three pairs of shoes that fit no one, picture frames, Russian language CDs, four chewed up cat toys and, well, I don't think I need to go on. Now, it is the picture of organization. It is my pride and joy. Sometimes I just stand back and stare into it. I think I need to get out more often.

Next, was the linen closet upstairs. Old towels, mismatched sheets, extension cords and a Walkman that doesn't work any more. Then my closet, and I won't even tell you how many old purses were jammed in the back corner. I seem to have some challenging organizational issues. And now that there are two kids in our lives, we are really trying to get our house, our closets, in order.

Every week I de-clutter the house, walking from room to room and looking for toys and stuff that I can pitch. Mainly, what the kids won't notice is gone. The rest I sort. I have boxes for Tara's dolls, bags for beads--including the stray ones that were rolling under the couch, much to the cat's excitement. I have big plastic containers for clothes that don't fit her yet, and boxes of dress-up clothes for a princess, ballerina and a Snow White.

But somehow, everything keeps finding its way outside of my perfect boxes and neat closets And this can make you crazy. Is there such a thing as trying to be too organized? Is it less painful if you just don't even bother? Do you ever just say, OK, forget it. When the kids are 18, we'll get our house back?

Hmmmm. Maybe I am the only one with this problem.