I'm beginning to understand my recent organization kick. I've come up with a few reasons.
First of all, I like to be organized. Always have. I like boxes, separators and compartments. I get excited when my spice containers are side-by-side and get tingles down my back when I see labeled bins, all stacked in a row. Call it obsessive, neurotic, psychotic. Either way, it's who I am. I can't really see myself changing any time soon, so I've learned to just embrace it.
Second of all, it makes everything easier. Spending the last hour of my life going through three more of my kitchen cupboads makes me... well, I guess it makes me a little pathetic... but it also cuts down the time I spend in the kitchen. I reorganized my spice cabinet so the spices I use most often are near the front. I took out the huge platters that had been taking over my lower cupboard so there was more room for the pots and pans I use every day. I took out the coffee mugs that I had been harboring for almost four years because we don't use them. I mean, really. For two people who don't even drink coffee? It's a useless waste of space. And then I moved our smaller glasses to the attic (in a labeled bin, of course) so I could make more room for our Tupperware cups and bowls. Because with toddlers, Tupperware is just smarter; life is just too short to clean up glass. When things are kept in places that make sense, within reach and in a space that others could find them too, you're able to spend more time doing things you want to do.
And lastly - and perhaps the most psycho-analytic of the three - is that organization is one element of my life that I can control. My kitchen drawers, bathroom cupboards and craft supplies are areas of MY domain. I have say about what goes where, how it's best utilized and for how long I want it that way. I decide if that organizer is most efficiently used in which cupboard and what is inside. I decide how many Ziploc bags I will need when gathering my boys' toys. I have the first and last word. It really is a beautiful thing. Well, that and my husband really couldn't care less about such things.
Other areas of my life? Not so much. I mean, yeah, I (along with Andy) decide how we want to raise our kids. We talk about it a lot. More than you could imagine, actually. But Jack and Ben have a little thing called "free will" that restricts me from treating them like robots. They do not always do what I say, when I want them to do it. It can be frustrating for sure, especially when I feel like I know what's best. But honestly, would I really want them to be like that? The answer is most definitely no. I want them to be free, independent thinkers, who constantly think about God's best and how He would want them to live their lives. I don't want them to be determined to tune out Mom's voice of direction and redirection just because that's the only voice I've trained them to hear.
The boys will be two in less than three months, but I'm already feeling like we've begun to round the corner on the Terrible Twos. They want to do things themselves (even if their bodies can't quite match their desire) and they're exploring the boundaries. Some days are exhausting just trying to stay a step ahead of them. I've already cleaned out the entire contents of our 'junk' drawer and the top two drawers of my computer desk because I couldn't stand the many times I was saying, "Don't touch." But at the same time, it really is exciting watching them become more of the man God wants them to be. They're exploring their surroundings and in turn, discovering themselves.
And this is one way I can help: by organizing my kitchen cupboards when they're sleeping. Then I can be there to sit, play, watch, admire, encourage, redirect, motivate, hang out and teach when they're awake. True, it's a little obsessive. Perhaps I'm out of control. It's possible that I need professional help.
But I'm alright with that.
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