About a year ago I sold my "good camera." It was an awesome DSLR. I scrimped and saved and researched and finally pulled the trigger and got The Big Camera. As a hobby blogger, I felt this was the next logical item in my equipment toolbox. I had my MacBook, I had a Twitter, Pinterest, and Instagram account! My little blog even has a Facebook page (SO NECESSARY for my mom, mother-in-law and five additional readers! HI GUYS! THANK YOU FOR LIKING ME!). So yes! I needed a fancy-pants camera! That I had no idea how to use, no time to figure out how to use! And! Oh yes! I also had a crazy 3-year-old girl (at the time) who likes touching all the things! Of COURSE what I needed was an expensive, portable electronic device that CHILDREN MUST NEVER TOUCH! Because I needed to take photos of my homemade chalkboard! My spray paint projects! For! The! Internet!
Yes, let us all facepalm in unison.
So. I sold my camera and lens on eBay. There are times when I miss it and wish I had it to play around with. But when I'm realistic about my needs right now? When I get down to brass tacks on how much I would actually use the thing versus tucking it in the top of my closet to protect it from sticky little fingers? It's stupid. My iPhone is always available in my back pocket, is covered in an Otterbox because it gets dropped every day, and frankly? This is ALWAYS the face one of my kids makes every time I holler "CHEESE!"
So special. Never gets old.
Letting go of that gadget is something I remember when I start to get overwhelmed in my life at home. My house tends to get very cluttered very quickly. We have a little three bedroom bungalow with very moderate storage. I have to look at everything, from toys to furniture, and ask … does this fit my lifestyle right now? Am I keeping this just to keep it? Am I assigning more meaning to an object than it deserves? Let me tell you something: it feels really good to just dump an item and make a better use of a space.
For instance, it has taken almost SEVEN YEARS of living in our current home to figure out a desk space for my husband. When I was a younger and dumber wife, I was very adamant that a desk DOES NOT belong in a bedroom. Back then we had None kids, a spare bedroom, and poof! No problem! But when babies started arriving, Daddy's desk got moved to the dining area (terrible idea), and then the kitchen (less terrible idea, but still not ideal) and then finally he absconded to the spider-infested garage, because Mean Wife (he has a "real" office offsite, just so you know. But the nature of his work requires that he also have a desk at home).
And finally, when I was pregnant with Lucy he asked very sweetly if he could buy a little, teensy desk and chair at IKEA and exchange it for his bedside table, so he could at least work near me when I passed out watching television at 8 pm every night. And it worked! And it was a great idea! That wasn't MY idea! (Huh. Imagine that.) In the last few weeks I've been able to take my husband's humble request – for desk space in the house that is semi-private – and rearrage it into an AWESOME cubby hole in our bedroom that does not intrude on my snooty taste and also provides the space that he deserves in our home. He loves it! He feels cared for! And I donated the bedside tables (they were seriously terribly designed and bulky as all getout) … even though they came with our bedroom set and it was the first "real" furniture we ever bought together. Because at the end of the day it was more important that the PERSON have space than the furniture.
Guys. Say it with me: FREEDOM!