Every few weeks or so, I go through a Clean Sweep phase and everything in my house is classified into three categories: "keep in place", "toss", or "store in large plastic bin with a lid".
Personally, I'm a BIG fan of toss. I absolutely abhor piles of useless crap, but you'd never know it judging by the state of my home.
That's the problem with living with a sentimental pack rat who refused to acknowledge that the dusty, old CPU sitting in the garage is... NEVER... GOING... TO... WORK... AGAIN or that he wouldn't be caught dead in that kimono, which he keeps just because it reminds him of his semester abroad...
BUT, I love my husband and he lives here too, so I let him hoard away... within reason, of course. Instead, I try to focus on the things I can control... ahem, everything else.
The other day, I announced my plans to put away the stuff our son has outgrown, like soft rattles, teeters, burp clothes, and bottles. My husband sheepishly asked if I was planning to donate them or save them for the "next one"...
Ah, the "next one".... There's a landmine if ever there was one.
In the last few months, this has been a topic of great debate and a point of interest among everyone we know. "When are you going to have another one?" I guess it isn't it enough that I've given my dad the boy he always wanted (he had three daughters) and named him after my father-in-law (I) and my husband (II). Nope, nope, nope. The people what MORE BABIES!!!
Personally, I'm a BIG fan of toss. I absolutely abhor piles of useless crap, but you'd never know it judging by the state of my home.
That's the problem with living with a sentimental pack rat who refused to acknowledge that the dusty, old CPU sitting in the garage is... NEVER... GOING... TO... WORK... AGAIN or that he wouldn't be caught dead in that kimono, which he keeps just because it reminds him of his semester abroad...
BUT, I love my husband and he lives here too, so I let him hoard away... within reason, of course. Instead, I try to focus on the things I can control... ahem, everything else.
The other day, I announced my plans to put away the stuff our son has outgrown, like soft rattles, teeters, burp clothes, and bottles. My husband sheepishly asked if I was planning to donate them or save them for the "next one"...
Ah, the "next one".... There's a landmine if ever there was one.
In the last few months, this has been a topic of great debate and a point of interest among everyone we know. "When are you going to have another one?" I guess it isn't it enough that I've given my dad the boy he always wanted (he had three daughters) and named him after my father-in-law (I) and my husband (II). Nope, nope, nope. The people what MORE BABIES!!!
My husband was adopted when my mother-in-law (unbeknownst to her) was already preggo with my brother-in-law. Nine months later, instant playmate...
While my mother-in-law, decades later, still has no idea how she survived, my husband claims to have nothing but fond memories of having a buddy so close in age (and living in such close proximity) and he wants much of the same for our son. Well, expect for the "nine months apart" business... First of all, that ship has loooooong sailed and more importantly... um, eew.
I remind him (and my in-laws) that all of the horrible stories about "little brother" as a child are not exactly encouraging me to go along with this little hair-brained scheme. Yet, my husband insists that it was "just awesome"...
Meanwhile, I'm having a tough enough time keeping up with our one child. I can't even think about two... especially, this soon! I know people do it all the time, but from what I've surmised from the chatter at Gymboree... the only child is a joy not to be taken for granted nor given up so soon. Now that our son has reached the fun, frenetic, but fragile state of toddlerhood, Hubby is more likely to agree, but the topic still comes up on a regular basis.
So, I've made a deal with him. Let's buy a bigger house and then we can talk about having another baby. While we are content with where we currently live, there is no more room in mi casa, what with the random computer parts and memorabilia stocked in every available nook and cranny...
....and there is no way Jose that I will be moving while I'm pregnant. NOT negotiable.
We can't afford a new house right now... Well, at least, not one that we would want to be in for a while, which would be the point of moving. The way I see it, if we can't afford more room, we can't afford more babies... Conversation over.
