Unreal TV

I don’t know about you, but I find a guilty pleasure in watching television shows like “Hoarders”. I mean, I get that there are serious psychological conditions that lends itself to collecting or hanging onto stuff. Lord knows I have trouble letting things go myself sometimes.  But it is in the watching of these almost hopeless homes that makes me feel somewhat better about my own housekeeping skills.

There is nothing like looking at a load of stuff stashed in someone else’s place that makes one feel that the piles parked around one’s own abode maybe aren’t so bad after all. Now I know my Beloved would have something to say about said piles, but since I don’t see him dashing about with a broom or duster, or dare I say it, even aware of where these items are kept, I don’t know that he’s in the best position to judge.

Anyhow, unlike certain other reality TV shows that make you feel pathetic by comparison (‘The Biggest Loser’ anyone?) Hoarders and the like have the ability to make one take a good hard look at your own surroundings, and see that they’re not too bad after all, as long as you have a clear path between you and the closest exit in the event of an emergency (and even then my Beloved would say we push the limit at times).

I always find myself inspired to get up and have a crack at that towering pile of something too, after I watch an episode or two. The kids hate it. Because the pile I am pursuing usually involves them.

Take the last lot of school holidays for instance, I declared that our New Year’s Resolution was to go through clothes, shoes, toys, books, whatever other clutter was clustered in the cupboards, and have a good old fashion Spring, I mean Summer, clean. Better late than never, right?

So I assigned both boychild and girlchild the task of starting in their bedroom closet, while I had a go elsewhere in the house. The instructions were quite specific- empty drawers, shelves, and hanging space, one at a time, and sort accordingly: keep or throw. Sounded simple enough in theory.  In practice you would’ve thought I asked them to climb Mount Everest! I swear, the preparation time was about equal, along with the potential failure.

So I sat, one bed at a time, and helped my precious progeny start sorting, with a new set of instructions to make it easier: Does it fit? Yes/No. If No, chuck it. If Yes, will you wear it? If No, chuck it.  Simple. (And here I really did start to swear, albeit under my breath so as not to set a bad example for the children.)

After about 6 years of sorting clothes (well it felt like it) we moved onto the shoes, then opened the toybox. Pandora’s Box more like it. Why is it that toys can lurk a long time under the lid, unplayed with, unthought of, unmissed. But as soon as it comes time to consider culling, it’s suddenly the Toy Of The Year and can’t possibly be gotten rid of?!

Anyway, it was during this time I realized that while my kids’ cupboards were looking good, we had somehow misplaced the bed. And you can forget the floor!  So at least on one occasion I had an extra body in my bed until theirs was uncovered again (luckily, or not, depends on how much sleep I needed) my Beloved often works at night a lot so there is a spot beside me.

On it went. At least the holidays were a full six weeks so we had time to make a dent in things. I have to confess though that even now there are little piles still awaiting donation or delivery elsewhere.  Yet while I was ultimately proud of my kids’ achievements in making their own rooms tidy, somehow, some of the stuff made its way into the Master Bedroom, so now MY room needs at least 6 solid weeks of sorting to make it habitable again.  But since we haven’t signed on to any episode of “Hoarders”, it can stay quietly hidden behind closed doors, as so much does in the lives of parents.

In the meantime I can settle in and see how someone else copes with the load, sitting smugly in my less-than-spotless place, and use it as a teachable moment for my children that this is where we’re headed without a few more hands on deck. Or until the next school holidays.

If all else fails, I’ll record a few episodes of “Wife Swap” or “World’s Strictest Parents”. 

That oughta do it.

 Jx

© 17 February 2014

Too Many Toothbrushes

My kids come from a long line of hoarders. It’s sad, but true.

While my Beloved and I are both prone to hanging onto stuff that “might be useful someday”, the kids just can’t let go of toothbrushes, among other things.

Given the recommended natural attrition rate of one every 3 to 6 months, we’re talking a whole lotta bristles!

At last count they were up to about 12 apiece.

Thanks to clever marketing by manufacturers, cartoon characters feature heavily (oh yeah, ‘pester power’ is alive and well in the toothbrush aisle). There is Eve and Wall-E, Shrek, pretty much all the Disney Princesses, Mater and Lightning McQueen, Buzz and Woody, Winnie the Pooh and crew, and my son’s latest addition is Bart Simpson. There are also toothbrushes shaped like koalas and other animals (don’t ask me why), as well as the ‘boring’ plain plastic variety in almost every hue.

There are toothbrushes from almost before they had teeth still lurking around- would you believe- toothbrushes that have been chewed more times than any stick of gum, there’re even toothbrushes that I actually don’t recall as belonging to my children at any given time. This is one serious addiction.

But any effort we make to take them away to toss is a dead loss as far as these children are concerned.

The other thing our clutter-loving kids like to hang onto long past their use-by date, is the cardboard roll that once was home to the toilet paper. I cannot even calculate by regular means how many of those have done their thing at the commode yet are still floating about our abode!

I blame myself for that one, as I’m a bit of a crafty greenie, you could say. My kids have learnt that it’s not good to simply throw things away, it’s better to find other ways to reuse or recycle. And so we have no less than 6 of the aforementioned crap-wrap inserts (you can thank my Beloved for that description) currently decorating our dinner table, in the guise of cardboard caricatures of our family (even the dog got a look-in)!

So intent on adding to the roll roundup, my kids have become experts in using up the stuff almost as quick as I can replace it and without word of a lie, you can hear the RINNN-nin-nin-NIN-nin of the toilet paper being spun right off the roll at each visit. If you have kids, I know you know that sound. (One of my girlfriends knows it even better than I do- and she feeds the addiction by buying loo rolls in bulk!)

And it’s a sad state of affairs that we can’t even donate the offending offcuts to the school anymore, as OH&S regulations forbid sending anything in that may have come into contact with contamination. (Whoever wrote that rule has obviously used the bathroom after my son!)

We have tried many ways to wean them off their toothbrush and toilet roll fixation, but learnt a long time ago that if you wanna throw one out, you simply cannot use any garbage can at their eye level or it comes right back out again (talk about your OH&S issues right there!). The only way to do it is under cover of darkness, right before the weekly wheelie-bin collection. That, or let them see me using one of the well-worn brushes to scrub the shower (the “Ewww” factor can work in our favour sometimes).

And so despite our best efforts, our house is home to enough toothbrushes to keep Dr Teeth in business, with enough empty toilet rolls to create a full size reconstruction of the Parthenon!

We can only reassure ourselves with the fact that at least our kids are well-practised in personal hygiene, and when they leave home someday you can be sure that any remaining collections will be personally packed by their parents to make the move along with them.

There’s only, ooh, 15 more years ‘til then, which means roughly 60 toothbrushes and 1500 toilet rolls, if you go by the average family usage.

Hmmm…maybe it’d be easier for us parents to move out instead.

Jx
©2009