Buried Alive…Sorta…

Disclaimer: This is totally a rant! Bear with me…

I have never been the type of person to hold on to things.  In fact, I have always been the complete opposite.  If I haven’t used something in a few months, it more often than not has made it’s way to some landfill out in Staten Island or Brooklyn or into someone’s home via one of those donation boxes at our local gas station.  I will admit to keeping 4 separate shoe boxes full of things from the 4 significant relationships that I have been in, and 1 other shoebox that has some of the first pictures I took, letters from friends in high school (you know, original text messages that you passed or threw across the classroom as the teacher wrote something on the chalkboard), and programs from graduations and school musicals I’ve been in.  I can’t let go of these boxes (even though I know I probably should) for reasons that I can’t understand, but that’s besides the point.

I grew up in a house where my mother had very obvious, and very intense undiagnosed OCD.  It’s possible that my OCD is a learned behavior. I can acknowledge that.  Our house was so clean and organized that you would never think that 5 kids and 2 adults lived there.  We had glass tables (never a fingerprint), white walls (not a scuff mark was ever to be seen) and light gray couches (they were and STILL are immaculate even after a grandchild too).  There were never dishes in the sink, never a hair on our bathroom floor, and everyone did their share.  If something was out, that meant someone was using it, otherwise, it also made its way to said landfill.  My mother did NOT play that!  I like things organized and in their place.  I don’t see the need to have a ton of unnecessary things to clutter my space.

Living with someone that has the COMPLETE opposite idea of this is very difficult, but it’s even more trying when one is moving.  Callie is what I often call a Baby Hoarder.  She has the potential to fill a home to the brim with “garbage”.  A collector of things, a “One mans trash/another mans treasure” kinda person.  “We are gonna need this someday” kinda lady, and that makes me absolutely out of my mind!  This past week has been taxing both physically and emotionally for us.  With respite care for a friends 7 month old foster son, the Gender Reveal Party (haven’t forgotten to post about that, just haven’t gotten my computer set up yet), planning/packing for our Anniversary/Babymoon vacation this coming Saturday, a 9 month old with a stomach bug throwing up all over the place, a 6 year old with a buttload of homework, and no time or ability to just sit and relax and have an un-rushed kiss, this move has not been easy.  It took us a total of 5 days to move out of the old apartment.  We are completely and finally out after 5 long, drawn out, exhausting days. The lack of sleep, love, food and belly rubs for my twins (several times I even FORGOT that she was pregnant-seriously!) has made me less tolerant of Callie’s “collecting“.

I did the unthinkable (in her eyes, not mine)!  As I was organizing and putting things away, I threw out a ton of stuff.  Most of it was hers, like the 29 lotions that she’s had since before we were even together (the same lotions have traveled to 3 different apartments in 4 years and have never been used…ever! I mean, who in the hell has Celine Dion lotion anyways? I’m not even gonna wait for an answer to that one), the 7 curling irons, the dozens and dozens of freebies from hotels/motels that she has traveled to, the 14 containers of floss, and that’s just a quarter of the stuff that was in our 2x2x2ish bathroom cabinet!  I don’t even want to get into the medicine cabinet, which my best friend Nikki had dubbed “The Booby Trap” because there is so much stuff in there that you can’t open it without a minimum of 10 things falling out.  In our old apartment, there was stuff in every corner in one box or another. I mean, it was organized but it was starting to become to much. So I have been patient, kind, and gentle in my approach every year for the past 4 years.  I have asked nicely and I have done my best to be compassionate and considerate, but I’ve had it! We have 2 kids at home and 2 on the way.  We have enough shit for 20 people to last 20 years, and I don’t know how else to emphasize the importance and the need for space.  So I took it upon myself to start to “make room”.  Call it Non-Belly Mama Nesting or whatever! Believe me when I tell you, it was not received well.  I get it! I was an asshole and inconsiderate, and violated trust because “it wasn’t my stuff to get rid of” but it took me 4 YEARS to get there, and I’m over it!   Currently, she isn’t speaking to me.  I insist she’ll get over it, she reiterates that she will not. She can’t even name the things I threw out!  If someone had thrown out my things I would be able to name every item, where it came from , how long I’ve had it, how I acquired it, and a ton of other facts about it.  It’s a violation of trust (I suppose), but is my need to keep things organized and clutter free any less valid? Are we not in this together and supposed to come to some type of compromise?  I don’t have a problem keeping lotion, like 2 or 3 or 5, but not 29! This is going to be a crazy uphill battle of getting rid of things in an apartment that has 2 less closets (that were used for storage by the way, and that’s not even including the 6×10 storage unit that we ALREADY have [where I have 1 box and 2 camping bins and a tent]) and a nursery that needs to be started in a month and has boxes covering even the windows! I hope we can come to an agreement about getting rid of some things or I can foresee me sleeping on the couch for a couple of nights!

On a bright note, the following rooms are completely set up and clutter free:
-Both bathrooms
-The master bedroom
-Mary’s bedroom
-The Living Room
-The game closet

Still left to do:
-The Kitchen (sorting through 5 different plate/mug sets–who needs 17 plates for 3 people? Sheesh! OK, I’m doing it again!)
-The Nursery (and it’s millions and billions of boxes!)

This vacation is soooooo needed!