We live in a small house, so post-Christmas things have to get a little extreme around here. For example, yesterday was what I like to call “Black Bag Monday.” This means that I waited until the baby was down for her nap and then put on a LONG movie for the older kids. While they were mesmerized by the flickering screen, I tiptoed upstairs to their bedroom with a large box of black garbage bags. Then… I had no mercy.

If no one plays with it or hasn’t in a while, if it’s big, if it’s ugly, if it’s broken, if it’s plastic, if it’s missing pieces, if it smells bad, if I wasn’t sure what it was or if it was alive- OUT IT WENT. Even if great Auntie so-n-so just sent this “perfect” knick-knack for the kids last week, even if it is the only one of it’s kind, even if it might be popular again some day, even if it was fun or useful or nice once upon a time- OUT IT WENT.

The kids didn’t even notice me lugging the giant bags out to the trash or to the van for giving away. Afterwards, they surely didn’t miss the stuff that compiled the cluttered mess in their room, and now there is plenty of room for new Christmas toys that they actually will play with.

Oh and by the way, the same tough rules apply to grownup “stuff” around here too. I’m ruthless. I’m callous. I’m as un-sentimental as humanly possible. I make “stuff” earn a place in my home- if I don’t use it (and let’s be honest here), I get rid of it. I have been just plain cold-hearted about saving things for years now and never once have I found myself wanting or missing an item I tossed in a fit of de-cluttering. After all, it’s just stuff. Life just feels so good when you clear away the piles of clutter.

Sweet space and fresh air! Ahhhhh. Merry Christmas!