Sunday, July 15, 2007

Luggage creep

We went to my mom's house this weekend for the wedding of a very old and dear friend. My mom always spends time scrubbing the house before we arrive and sometimes even gets the carpet professionally serviced so that the baby can roll around without fear of inhaling a stray cheerio or paperclip (I haven't cleaned my own carpets in about a year...)

And no matter how organized I am, no matter how many ziplocks I've used to separate my daughter's onesies from my son's elmo underwear and my bras from my kids' pajamas, invariably, five minutes after we've arrived, our crap is strewn all over the house.

It's not as though we open the suitcases and then parade around dropping articles of clothing and accessories in every room. It just happens spontaneously, literally within minutes of our arrival. Bottles and sippy cups, shoes and cell phones, blankets, toys and diapers. Just piles of our crap everywhere. I used to try to straighten up each morning, repack whatever had crept out of the luggage, make the bed, organize the toys...but I've given up. Because by the end of the day the place looks like an Old Navy after a holiday sale. Crap everywhere.

So I'm working on letting it go. This is not easy for me as I am a true virgo and I can't stand clutter. I hate knick knacks, curios, collections of porcelain cherubs, smurfs, even too many ratty paperback books. In my world everything has it's home and must reside there when not in use. And sometimes home is a box in the attic or Goodwill and that's okay.

But luggage creep is unavoidable. I thought it was bad with just the one kid. Now it's taken on a life of it's own. It's like a living, breathing organism, molting as it moves through the rooms of the house, shedding 3T feety pajamas, 0-6 month booties, Aquafor and bathings suits.

Thankfully, within a half hour it's all contained again and we're off to the airport after another wonderful weekend at Grandma's. However, as I write this from my home, with our luggage unzipped and sitting in the living room, a trail of our belongings has already taken form reminding me to accept the things I cannot change and embrace the crap and clutter that comes with family.