From the Blog

This Is My Kid

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One of my “things” is that I like to have everything in its place. I mean physical objects. In my house. Or wherever. I want “stuff” to have a home, and I want said stuff to “be” in its home. For me, stuff out of place is a distraction. It’s clutter. It creates static. I have a harder time concentrating if I rest my eyes someplace and they fall upon some stupid shit in some stupid place. Great. Another thing for me to do.

Likewise, having things put away makes my heart happy. It soothes me. I like blankets folded. I like toys put away after they guys go to bed. I like silverware all nestled together in their correct little cubbies. Sleep tight, silverware!

Not that we live like this. Not even before kids. Because I live with one other adult who doesn’t have this same urge that I do. And regardless of our efforts to stem the tide, our house is a constant influx of stuff that doesn’t have a home.

And really, I have to be honest, we spent a lot of time downsizing a few years ago. I still believe in making thoughtful purchases and reducing the amount of crap in our lives.

But this past weekend I bought a pancake griddle. We also have a whirly pop for popcorn. I recently bought not one, but two, toy boxes for the boys’ stuff. One of our rocking chairs is permanent home to a yoga ball. I just bought a giant tent thing for the boys. I mean, they *love* it, but it’s a giant tent thing.

I suppose you could safely say that our downsizing is on hiatus.

So. This is my kid.


This is his default expression. He has concerned resting face. He’s just thinking. About stuff.

He wants things in their place. This is a newish development and it has come on strong. If something is out of place, he likes to point where it goes.




He also wants to help, often by bringing objects to their rightful owners. He frequently scoops up Loyal’s treasured little tiger (with the dirty butt) and brings it to him. I once swept in the door from running errands, and Casc brought me my sweater that I wear around the house. He even knows which slippers are Papa’s, and which ones are Mama’s.


This kid. I just want to scoop him up and squeeze him until he pops.


  1. Completely adorable……

  2. Aunty Laurie says

    “Sleep Tight Silverware”?!?!?! You Crack Me Up!!!!

  3. Heehee. I read that last line too quickly and thought it said, ‘squeeze him until he poops!’ Ha!

  4. This sounds ominously familiar. Role reversal here, though. I WANT to put things where they go, I really do. But sometimes I don’t know where they go. Sometimes they are new and haven’t found a home. Sometimes they don’t belong to me, and the one who needs to find it a home suddenly thinks it’s my job, because I’m “the picky one”. Ah, me. We have visions of living on a boat someday, or traveling the continent in an RV. But I have been told that it will never happen until the sewing machine’s home is NOT the dining room table. (To thell the truth: It’s a sewing machine, old jeans that really belong in the garbage, presents that need to be wrapped, and a stack of blouses that need to go to my sister’s house). You get the picture. And where am I supposed to put the backpacks (2 of them), that walk in the house at the end of every day?

  5. Oh thank you so much for so eloquently writing exactly how I feel all the time. I am very unproductive if “stuff” is not in its proper little place. The counters can be dirty and floor unswept, but if things are where I believe they should be, I’m ok.

    I think things comes in fluxes. I go through phases of buying and then buying nothing but essentials for a month or two. And that Whirley Pop? We have one too…it’s supposed to help us make more snacks rather than buying packaged snacks. We are using it at least weekly, but I have to admit that we aren’t using it half as much as I expected.

    As for your little man, I have a similarly-minded one. He (at only 5) was very proud to show off how nicely he folded his clothes in his closet. I think his penchant for orderliness is one of my favorite traits about it…and surely helps a mama out!

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