Climbing Out from Under
My visiting in-laws have inspired me to go beyond my normal level of house-cleaning for guests. (My normal level being: tidying up the piles, moving more of the chaos to selected chaos-containment rooms, and distracting them with my husband’s awesome cooking).
But today I attacked one of those chaos-containment rooms with a vengeance. The nursery was getting out of control. What with the baby really only two needing uncluttered surfaces– in the crib, and the change table. The rest of the room, including the guest bed, had become storage for various boxes of clothing:
-things from older friends that will fit Ruth soon
-things that don’t fit Ruth, and will eventually fit Grace
-things that fit but are for the wrong season
-things that will fit Grace soon
-things to be returned to the friends who loaned them,
-things from our mom to be saved in case my sister has a girl someday
-outgrown things not yet bagged and given away
Yes. lots of boxes. And it feels mostly reasonable to hang on to things with a hope that they will fit my youngest daughter, in the right season. And it feels somewhat reasonable to set aside some choice articles to share with my sister. And it feels really freeing to finally get some bags out of the house and donated away. It even *gasp* makes sense to bag up and give away a whole pile of shirts that fit her body, but that have fixed small necklines, and don’t fit over Ruth’s delightfully enormous melon of a head. Because her head is not too big- the shirt is too small. And getting that shirt out of her closet just makes sense.
And BONUS! Under all those piles there was a bed! So the Parents-in-law arriving this evening will have a place to sleep. WHEE!
And all of this has been the warm-up I needed to get ready to tackle the chaos that has been contained upstairs in my own room*. I am so very, very, very glad that it no longer feels at all reasonable to store boxes and boxes of “it almost fits” and “it might fit again” and “it never fit me, but next diet it might”.
It has been a long time to get to this point. I stumbled blindly across the possibility of Fat Acceptance over 4 years ago, while pregnant with my first exquisite daughter. So even as I shook the dust of Diet Culture from my sandals, and came to know that I would not, in fact, devour the world, I was in this stage of life that involved a whole lot of pregnancy, childbirth, and nursing-related body changes.
It has been over a year now since Grace stopped nursing. And I still have not devoured the world. And tomorrow, having restored some order and calm to her room, I’m tackling the boxes and bags and piles that are in mine. Enough of the almost-fits and might-fit-again. Enough of the fits-but-I-hate-it-but-it-is-too-hard-to-find-things-that-fit-so-everything-must-be-kept-just-in-case. Enough of the doesn’t-fit-but-I-loved-that-concert (well, maybe those can move to the basement).
And right where all those boxes are would make a great spot for maybe a yoga mat, or a knitting chair… or something that has more relevance to my life than these artifacts of sizes I used to be.
It’s time to climb out from under.
*It’s been there since we moved in. And the ‘lived-in’ look it imparts to the master bedroom is NOT helping, as it comes time to move on.
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