Back to School De-Clutter

It's back to school time and I'm *mopily packing away the beach towels and flip-flops, and pulling out backpacks. Getting ready for the perpetual motion of the school year means getting organized!

This is not a blog about home organization.

If you saw my house on any given day, you would understand why. I am not an organized by nature... but with a big family- some semblance of organization is a necessity. I'd like to share some simple tips for keeping your kids' stuff where it belongs and out of your way. I probably did not invent these ideas, but I've put them to the test and been pleased with the results. I've read many books on organization and would recommend A Sane Woman's Guide to Raising a Large Family if you are looking for more detailed help in this area.

• Consider making a "mud room". Our mud room was a small formal dining area near our front door. It houses our piano on one wall, and a wide bench on the other. Bins for the children's shoes are lined up under the bench. When kids walk in, they take off their shoes and throw them in their bin. Children heading out the door have a place to stop, put on shoes and gather their things. During the school year we hang up backpacks, the library bag, umbrellas, jackets and hats on the hooks above the bench. In the summer we hang the swim bag, swimsuits and towels on these same hooks. Once a week one of my four-year-olds has the chore of spraying the inside of every shoe with Lysol. My three-year-old helps by pulling out the shoes and lining them up. It keeps the mud room smelling nice, and keeps two preschoolers busy for an hour. Priceless.

• Store items by category... not by kid. I currently have four children playing soccer. That means 4 balls, sets of shin pads, cleats, uniforms, etc. It's a lot to keep up with, and having a bag for each child's stuff seemed overwhelming. This year I bought ONE giant mesh bag at a sporting goods store for $5. EVERYTHING soccer goes in that bag (except uniforms, which I keep in a basket in the laundry room). When the kids climb in the van after practice they immediately take off their pads and cleats and toss it all in the bag. This system also sets up some great Parenting with Love and Logic. If you're missing your cleats it can only mean one thing... you didn't put them in the bag. And if you didn't put your cleats in the bag... it looks like you will be practicing in crocs.

• Label with last name, not first. I had a jean jacket in elementary school. I loved it. But it said "Doug" (my older brother's name) in permanent marker on the inside label. 5th grade was awkward enough for me without be nicknamed "Doug". Do your hand-me-down-wearing-kids a favor, and label items with your last name. Ebay has inexpensive personalized iron-on labels I use for jackets, sweaters, blanket-lovies, etc. I have my phone number put on the labels too. When I'm fostering, I go ahead and order each child labels with their first names. Practical? Maybe not. But it's worth the effort for a foster child to feel they have ownership of their belongings.

• Trash it before it lands is my motto about papers sent home from school. Graded papers. Permission papers. Coloring papers. Most of them are trash. But if I don't sort through and toss papers as they come in... I'm quickly overwhelmed and frantically digging through a mound of papers for one permission slip so my third grader can stop weeping and go on her field trip to the zoo. We have a routine to prevent this: I sit at the head of the table with my kids each day after school, my trusty trash can by my side, and sort through the papers while my kids eat snack and tell me about their day. But what about that sweet drawing? Or wonderful poem? Items like this can live on the fridge for a week. At the end of a week I either toss them, or decide they are keepsake material and file them away.

• Hooks are one of the least appreciated home organizational tools available. They're great for backpacks... but don't stop there! Do you find wet towels on the bathroom floor? Install a hook on the back of the bathroom door for each child and have them hang wet towels there. My little ones hang their blankets and robes on a hook at the end of bed. My older girls have COUNTLESS hooks in their closet for purses, belts and bags. We have a hook on the inside of our linen closet for dog leashes, and another hook for their little doggy coats and sweaters (Okay, my dogs don't wear sweaters, but that would be cute in a Martha Stewart sort of way). Remember to choose hooks that have rounded ends, and hang them in places where no one can get snagged/impaled by them.

• Have less stuff. It's really the only key to having less clutter. Instead of buying more books visit the library. Instead of giving your child a scooter or roller blades, have them borrow or trade with a neighbor. Sharing more and owning less builds a healthier lifestyle and sense of community as well.

*Spellcheck says "mopily" isn't a word. It should be. Here it means "to perform a task or action in a mopey way".

Dear Sunday School Volunteer-

Sunday mornings are hectic. I scoot my child into your class with barely a "hello" (much less a potty training update or properly labeled sippy cup)... but I really do appreciate you. I'm scurrying off late to worship... but you've been in your classroom setting up all morning. The coloring pages and play-dough and Bible story are ready. While I'm enjoying worship... you are wiping noses, wiping bottoms, singing songs, building with blocks, serving goldfish, making crafts, and most importantly teaching my child about Christ. It's a big job, and I'm thankful you've chosen it.

But I need to ask more of you.

My child is adopted. She has been neglected and abused. She watched her parents violent brawls until one night the police came and took her away from the only home she'd ever known. She moved from place to place before finally landing in our home. And now she is here for good. We are her forever family... but she isn't like other kids. Her heart has been broken time and time again. She never really feels safe. She's afraid someone will come take her away again. So I need your help.

I need you to understand that many of her challenging behaviors are rooted in her past. If she's throwing blocks, don't assume she is just being naughty. She may be trying to win your attention. In a neglectful home, even negative attention is better than no attention at all.

I need you to help her set appropriate boundaries. She may try to kiss you or look through your purse or touch your earrings or play with your hair or rub your feet. Please don't take these actions lightly. She often puts herself in unsafe situations with strangers, so we need the help of trusted adults willing to tell her "Please don't give me a hug without asking".

I need you not to tell her she is "lucky to have us" or tell us we are "saints for taking her in". She knows she is adopted, but we don't want her to grow up feeling like a pity case. We want her to know that we choose her regardless of her past or her behavior.

I need you to be patient with the delays that leave her struggling to keep up with her peers. She may not be able to sit still for circle time, or keep her hands to herself, or make her requests with words like the other kids in class. Although this may be distracting at times, we firmly believe she belongs in a class where her peers can set a positive example and encourage her toward growth.

I need you to reassure her that we will be back to pick her up. Please don't ever joke about how you would love to take her home with you. She's been taken from her parents before. Every time we drop her off she is coping with a deep fear that we will not ever come back.

In the short time you spend with my child each week you have a chance to be part of her healing. You can help her learn to trust, understand boundaries and grow. You care deeply for our child, and I see it in all that you do. It's not fair that I have let so many weeks go by without thanking you, or asking how you're doing, or sharing the strategies we're trying at home. Thank you for giving your time to serve in my child's class.

Sincerely,

Denise

Sanctuary

The quote on my blog title is from a wonderful series of young adult novels called "A Series of Unfortunate Events" by Lemony Snicket. In the first book of this series the young Baudelaire orphans find themselves in the clutches of evil Count Olaf. The following quote describes the sanctuary they create in the drafty attic of their captor's home:

"Sanctuary... is a word here which means a small, safe place in a troubling world. Like an oasis in a vast desert or an island in a stormy sea."

This week my family experienced sanctuary.

My husband and I were exhausted by the time we arrived in Denver for the North American Council on Adoptable Children (NACAC) conference. Although we had been looking forward to the conference for months, we'd spent 15 hours in the van with 7 children* (under 9-years-old) and our 16-year-old-nanny-in-training by the time we pulled into the hotel. I was frazzled, the kids were wired, and our hotel room was busting at the seams with sleeping bags and suitcases. I inserted my earplugs, crawled into a queen size bed with my husband and our four year old, and decided this was all a MAJOR mistake.

The next morning... after two hours of bathing, dressing, pop-tart feeding and awkward 10-people-sharing-one-hotel-bathroom moments... we managed to arrive on time to register our children for the "Kids Camp" childcare program for the conference. The lobby of the convention center was overflowing with adoptive families of all kinds. I spotted a dear friend across the room and ran to give her a warm embrace.

My kids followed, and one of them reached out to give her a hug.

But she stopped him.

My friend took him warmly by the hands and said "Hi, I'm Kim! I'm a friend of your mom's. I love to give hugs... but we should introduce ourselves first. Then you need to check with your mom and make sure I'm someone you can hug."

If you're a mom of an adopted child, or if you've parented children in foster care, or worked with institutionalized children from orphanages... you're constantly working on boundaries. Our children wander fearlessly away from us in malls and grocery stores. Our kids hug people they don't know. Our sons and daughters don't understand the unspoken boundaries that bind and protect most children.

I cringe every time a stranger accepts inappropriate affection from my adopted children. I want to yank my child away from them and yell "Stranger Danger!!!"... but I don't. Southern hospitality gets the best of me and I politely accept "Isn't she a sweetheart!" or even worse "What a cutie! I'm going to take her home with me!". When the stranger walks away, I turn off my superficial smile and remind my kids for the thousandth time that we don't hug strangers. The world doesn't get it.

But Kim gets it.

Kim doesn't take hugs from my kids, because she cares so much for them. Kim is an adoptive mom too.

One of my children was unable to participate in "Kids Camp" at the conference due to his severe special needs. Although our nanny watched him during most of the workshops, he attended a few conference luncheons and general sessions with us. We were THOSE PEOPLE. The ones who bring their fidgeting, special needs child into adult programming. I had my "game face" on. I was ready for dirty looks and irritated sighs... but they never came.

These parents get it.

Adoptive parents know that even the best laid childcare plans don't always work out. They understand that our kids can't whisper in quiet places. That our kids spill drinks and try to take food off other people's plates. They don't judge us because our six-year-old is potty training or our nine-year-old threw a pizza in the pool. Parents who choose to build their families through adoption understand how someone can have more than one daughter named Jessica, or own four strollers, or drive a bus, or carry a change of clothes in their purse, or know how to clean the inner cannula of a trach tube.

Sanctuary.

It's a hotel pool overflowing with colorful families.

It's a friend who will lovingly remind your child of boundaries.

It's a place where your family can release a collective sigh... and feel "normal".

It's a small, safe place in a troubling world. Like an oasis in a vast desert or an island in a stormy sea.

*If you know us personally (or are stalking us online) you may be curious about the young man I mentioned in this post. We've opened our home to provide emergency respite for adoptive families in crisis. We're currently caring for a wonderful little boy with special needs who attended the conference with our family.