This post originally appeared on our old blog Born to be a Bride.
Y’all, I am sitting in a war zone right now. Okay, it’s a proverbial war zone, strewn with cat toys, summer maternity clothes to be boxed up and loaned to friends, bottles of French perfume, and stacks of shoes I swear I’ll sort through at some point. As we transition from one apartment to the other, and the furniture (save this desk at which I sit) has found its way out, I am left with only my resolve and a few boxes left to pack.
A lifelong hoarder collector, I have been known to hold fierce attachments to objects that, while certainly sentimental, do not contribute enough to daily life to justify retaining them. As Josh and I get ready for the arrival of our baby girl, I have resolved to be the mom whose house is not embarrassing. To be able to text a friend and invite her over for coffee or wine on a whim, without requiring a four-hour grace period to straighten up before her arrival.
Maybe leopards don’t change their spots, but whimsical and messy little girls grow up. And when you find you can control your anxiety by living in a space that’s organized, where the clutter is minimized and managed, you make it a priority to keep up. I am fully aware that our first few weeks with Baby Girl home will be a little nuts — but I resolve to rise above the potential for chaos and keep my home nice, just like my own mom did. It was a gift growing up in a clean, organized home where things belonged somewhere.
And sure, special items can be kept. But as I ditch the final batch of message tees and booty shorts and send my empty jars of face cream to the recycle bin, it feels really good to be turning over a new leaf in time to create a beautiful piece of the world for my daughter. Her room might not always look as meticulous as it does in this moment (and yes, it’s almost done — the post is coming!!), but I want her to have the sense of calm and protection that an organized home brings. I am the only one who can make the change I seek.
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