Organizational Frenzy

When I was in college, I would have spurts where I’d want to organize and straighten and pseudo-clean everything up. After the fact, I always realized these spurts were somehow tied to my monthly cycle. I don’t know what’s going on with me now, but I’m in a major, major, major organizational mode. In and of itself, that sounds like a good thing. I think the problem may be that I’m not approaching it in a very organized manner. Or that I’ve got so many different things that need to be organized that I’m feeling overloaded and trying to tackle too much at once in some frenzied desire to get everything organized. Probably I should have approached each area "in need of organization" one by one. Instead, I feel like I've done bits and pieces of all of the following all crowded together into a short amount of time.

• Matthew will be graduating from preschool next month, and one of the traditions there is the creation of a “graduation” book (a scrapbook) that gets handed to the child during the graduation ceremony. I just finished writing a “how-to” article on graduation bookmaking, in fact, for the school newsletter. Of course, I wrote the article before I pulled out the oversized plastic bin I’d had in his closet as a catch-all for all the art and projects we brought home last year. When I opened that box last week, I found myself stunned by the staggering amount of material I have. I've got tons of ideas for the book (and yes, an entire closet of scrapbooking material that probably won't even be needed for this project which is very "preschool art" heavy)--and am in the process of ordering lots of photos. It's just sitting down and "doing it" that has me stymied.

• In preparation for working on the “book,” I’ve been crazily uploading photos to Snapfish. I am camera-crazy, and I take lots of photos. I’m not, however, great about printing them out. So, I need to order photos reflective of his days at school (as well as order tons of photos from the last few years with the boys). Instead of randomly ordering, I’ve been systematically uploading files folder by folder. I think, finally, today I got the last of 2004 uploaded. I'm now trying to make sure everything from 2005 is in place. Then, I'm going to order just the ones for his book, right now. I debated about what to do, but I'm afraid if I start filling my cart with all the photos I want from 2004 to now, I'll end up totally overwhelmed and unfocused about his book, which has to be the priority. (Yes, I'm typing that in now just to remind myself that this is the right approach!)

• A few weeks back, I pulled out baskets and stacks of knitting patterns (printed and store-bought) to begin the process of organizing them. Ironically, while I do have many printed, the fact is that last year, I started saving electronic files to a knitting folder but not printing the patterns themselves out as often. So, someday I’ll need to catalog that folder and print out ones I really want or might make. (It’s a huge folder.) For now, I have to be content with having put everything in sleeves, sorted them by "kind" of project, and stuffed as many as possible into a couple of binders.

• In the "stacks of things" around the house, office, and in the "creative space closet" are also stacks and stacks of pages I’ve pulled from magazines. These pages are ones I want to save either because they show something beautiful in terms of design or color, or because they show something great in terms of organization, or because they contain a wonderful essay, or because they contain book reviews that I’d like to look over or pursue, or because they contain recipes that caught my attention (even though I don’t really ‘cook’ a whole lot), or because they contain cool art projects for kids (in case I have to teach or sub). In theory, I will glue these pages into notebooks or binders so that all these “bits and pieces” are in one place (and not falling off the shelves where they’ve been stashed) so I can flip through them later.

• I also got the idea to move the kids’ toybox from the office into their bedroom, and move the coffee table from their bedroom (where it was holding toy baskets) back into the living room. Spur of the minute, I decided to do this yesterday. As Matthew and I were driving home from the beach, I told him about my plan, and he immediately suggested that we "sort the toys," which was part of the unspoken plan, so a good idea. He then added, “And I can draw pictures on little pieces of paper, like a ‘ball,’ so we’ll know where the balls go.” I told him I thought labels would be a good idea. (They have labels on bins at school.) He added, “That way, when my friends come to my house, they will know where everything goes.” So, we got started. As these projects typically go, an hour or so into the process, the house looked like a tornado had hit. Toys were everywhere, baskets were everywhere, it was impossible to walk. What a mess. The toybox and table did get moved, and we tossed two giant trash bags to the basement for donation, as well as at least one bag of regular trash. Still, by dinner time, the feeling that a disaster had swept through the house remained. I worked for a few more hours. Gradually, it’s getting better. This morning, I moved the LEGO table into the office, a move which was greeted with many ooh’s and ahh’s since it hadn’t really been accessible where it was (we play LEGOs, instead, in the living room). Matthew continued working on his “labels,” which are very cute. When I left (for the beach), he was happily building in the office. It’s important not to underestimate the novelty of moving familiar objects to new places in the house, sorting and resorting toys into logical bins and baskets, and rearranging what’s where. Some things get moved to the forefront of their consciousness and imagination that they might have forgotten about or overlooked. I know some parents “rotate” toys, putting some away and brining them back out a few weeks later, cycling through belongings so that things are always “fresh” in their kids’ minds. We’ve thought about it but never actually done it. Still, it’s been interesting to watch how the boys have responded to my fit of organization. Of course, it never fails that the toys I lay out thinking we can get rid of them are the ones they immediately latch onto and show an interest in!

• I even cleaned out the overflowing drawer of sippy cups. We've experimented with a number of types over the years, and we have a drawer of cups and a drawer of lids. Basically, we ended up with three main types of cups that worked well for us. But we have remnants from a variety of other types. So, the drawer spilleth over. Matthew only uses one type of cup now, and Spencer, honestly, does better out of a real cup (or a coffee cup, which he love to drink milk out of since Mama uses a coffee cup all the time). So, the other day I realized we really should just toss most of the cups we have and only keep the one kind that has ended up being what both of them use most often for milk and watered juice. Wow, what a difference it made dumping out all those extra cups! And valves. We cleared out an entire drawer of valves!

• Even the giant Mary Engelbreit needlepoint canvas I’ve again picked up and been working on (partly because Matthew has started needlepointing and likes me to do it “with” him [meaning at the same time]) has fallen prey to my organizational frenzy. Having dragged it out again, I’ve found myself working on it frequently at night even though my knitting bags (shawl and sweater) are both within arm’s reach and feeling guilty each time I thread a needle that if I needlepoint I’m not knitting. Realizing that the canvas is so large that it could easily take a year or more to finish (especially since it’s not the only project I’m working on), and realizing that the size of it and the fear that it will never “get finished” partly stymies my work on it, I decided to break it down into parts and make a list of all the sections of it so that I could tackle it section by section and “cross off” sections as I finish them, thus enabling me to see progress even when it might feel like the task itself is endless. It will be amazing and beautiful when it’s finished.