It begins in earnest

Here's where we begin.

We may have a place to live, and I may have a job, but I won't know either for a little while. In the meantime, we guess on dates for a moving truck and we pack up our lives.

Let me explain.

We currently live in St. Cloud, MN. My husband accepted a one-year teaching job at a university, hoping that it would become a long term position. On his first day, he learned of the severe financial situation faced by the university. Needless to say, his job was not extended. I am a children's librarian by trade, but I could not find full time employment in my field in this area. I shifted from working full time to being a stay-at-home mom. It was a gift to spend so much time with my young children, although I did not always excel at my role. Despite our plans to send our son to an affordable Montessori school this fall, we decided that because we could not find enough work in our fields to support our family, that we would both join the job market to see what we could find.

After many applications, interviews and rejections, I have a job offer in St. Paul, contingent on the most invasive, intense hoops I've ever experienced. Physical examination. Background check in two states. Employment, references and education check. Criminal check. Driving record check. Credit history. My husband's benefits and paychecks end at August 31st. I'm hoping my job can start mid-August. I try not to freak out thinking about it.

Our lease ends in about a month, but I don't want to commute from St. Cloud to St. Paul. We will just pay for two locations for a month, thus saving me hours of driving time. We applied for a house, nicer than where we are now, but ultimately smaller. Our current duplex has an office with coat closet and shoe storage, dining room, living room, kitchen, three bedrooms, upstairs bathroom, built in storage in two bedrooms, a full basement and a two car garage. Our tentative rental house has a dining room, living room, kitchen, two bedrooms, small nook room (maybe 8 feet by 5 feet), upstairs bathroom, basement, deck and two car garage.

We have a lot of stuff.

In every move, since I first left for college in 1992, I have heard this phrase. "Wow, you have a lot of stuff." From friends, movers, family members. I gotta tell you, commenting on it does not change the fact that it exists. It really doesn't help me. All it does is make me mad and overwhelmed.

I am tired of being overwhelmed by my possessions. Suffocated by things. I hold onto silly, useless, redundant, outdated, unused items for countless reasons, but I want to change.

I want to get rid of the boxes that have remained unopened for nearly five years. I want to get ride of Rubbermaid totes full of clothes that don't fit and haven't fit for almost a decade. I want to get rid of all of the papers--letters, ticket stubs, magazines, random crap from eons ago.

I began with the bills. Most of our expenses are now paid online, but we had tons of paperwork from years past. It was spread across at least four boxes and a plastic tote. I spent a week sorting all of the papers into piles. Taxes. Individual credit cards. Retirement funds. Bank statements. Paychecks. Car insurance. Health insurance. Vet records. Utilities. Leases. Miscellaneous stuff. I kept all tax records, pay stubs, leases and health insurance. Everything else, I kept the last three years. I shredded the rest. Bags and bags and bags of paper (that my children spread around the carpet and played in). It is now organized in well-marked file folders.

I sold a few things on Craigslist: barely used cloth diapers, a bed frame, some baby items the kids outgrew. My pile to sell is growing.

I sorted the two bookcases of picture books (I am a children's librarian, after all). If they were boring or lame, they went into the Savers box. That shaved off nearly a full bookcase. As did a children's bike with flat tires, two rusty file cabinets, a ton of hand-me-down children's toys, a printer and scanner we didn't use, my bike with two flat tires, a lamp with a broken knob, books I'd kept from my last job, intending to make purses out of them (uh huh....right). I made a pile of about 40 books I'd carried with me for years, some I'd read and others I didn't. Im skimming one a day to see if I actually want to keep them. So far Ive only kept three out of fifteen.

Baby steps. That's where I am now, but every step matters. If we do downsize to a smaller place, I will welcome it. I want to release the clutter, instead choosing fewer, higher quality things to create our home. I want a sofa instead of a crappy futon. I want clean surfaces. I want functionality, organization, calmness.

You gotta start somewhere, right?