Resolution #3 on last week’s list was “Organize.” It’s my hardest quest, and one of the problems has always been I haven’t wanted to invest in organization. To be organized you need bins and shelves and filing cabinets and calendars. And if you’re going to try to DIY, you have to retrofit everything to work into your space, and that can be as much work as sorting through all the junk to see what can be recycled (boxes of old Oprah magazines, notebooks from past jobs) and what needs to be saved (past taxes, old Clash T-shirts).

So we started in on the office space, which I need to get cleaned up this month before I can work on Georgia’s room in February. The office space has been a jumble of unopened boxes that have gone through two, sometimes three moves. I started to open them in the hopes of tossing stuff out, but it soon became clear that the little time I had could not be spent going down memory lane with my old band, hopeful yards of vintage fabric, and idea files that serve to remind me I’ve been aching for organization for years. I pulled out anything that was clearly destined for the recycle bin and taped the boxes back up. Maybe when I’m 80 I’ll have time to go through them, but for now they will go into the attic storage.

While we were working on the clean up, Georgia was “cleaning” her room, and then setting up entertaining shows on the Fisher Price Phonograph with her glass figurines (my childhood treasures from one of the boxes I had previously stored at my mom’s, now adding to the clutter of this life). I was facing a huge pile of hand-me-downs that G still needs to grow into. I had fabric in four different boxes, and beloved old clothes from past incarnations becoming dandery cat beds as the cats imploded one flabby, reused cardboard box after another. I realized if I was going to get anywhere with the organizing I would need bins. The big plastic kind that's on sale right now, January being Organization Month, I suppose. Which not only meant buying something new, but a trip to Target, which is always difficult for me, in a former addict sort of way.

On my way there I thought, “What would the Momster do?” Could I solve this problem going to Goodwill? Something about reusing someone else’s bins give me the bad willies. Visions of Rear Window popped into my head. Plus, the odds of finding just what I needed were slim, especially if it is Organization Month. OK, no reused bins. Could I find something that used recycled plastics in making the bins? I’d look on the bins to see if any were recycled, but I wasn’t going to turn around to do research. (Turns out I couldn’t find any options online anyway, even at Gaiam!)

So I got five brand new, smelly, plastic bins. We immediately filled them and stuck them in storage and were able to uncover the guest bed that Georgia used to use as a trampoline. We pulled the cat hair-covered blanket off, and Georgia, previously lethargic and bored, began to bounce. She made up jumping games, and jumped for 45 minutes straight. And it was a joy to hear no coughing, after three sick weeks. So maybe it’s OK to trade a less-than-perfect choice for the joy of using our space in a fuller, more ordered way. Thought I'd still like to find options that make earth-sense, Georgia’s energy and delight sure made it feel worth it.

Photo credit: hellboarder