When I first started this blog, one of my intentions was to decorate my bedroom. My house hadn’t been decorated since before my girls were born and my bedroom really needed some attention. The only problem was that I’m not very good at decorating. In fact, I’m being kind to myself here – actually I am totally rubbish at decorating. But, never mind, I had time on my hands with my daughters starting school and it seemed like a good project to undertake. Two years on, it’s still not completely finished due in part to me being rubbish at decorating and in a much larger part to not liking decorating. My husband, who is quite good at decorating, also hates doing it and works seven days a week so it’s the last thing he feels like doing when he gets in on an evening. Consequently, the bedroom ground to a resounding halt.
Added to this is the added joy of being a parent. Being a parent is great but, and I’m sure most parents will agree with me, would be even better if your house and life wasn’t overtaken by masses and masses of toys. I have never been one of those parents who insist their children get rid of toys if they are not ready to. I think it must be hard and scary to be a child sometimes with, for the most part, your life in the control of adults. For a child, your things must become very important to you and a way of asserting your own little bit of independence; so who are we as adults to insist that some are got rid of? That’s why when one of my girls tells me the really can’t part with a teddy that they didn’t even know they had which still has a tag on its ear, I let them keep it and comfort myself that this hoarding tendency won’t last forever. I hope or they’ll be future stars of Channel 4s Compulsive Hoarders programme.
This is probably another reason why I gave up on decorating. What was the point when virtually every room has been invaded by dolls, prams, teddies, games and books? OK, I don’t mind the books but you get the picture. However, this week I seem to have awoken from this malaise and in have decided to reclaim my house. After all, my girls are seven in a couple of months and its high time some toys were given away. More importantly, I’d like to be able to have distinct rooms again, you know, like a dining room and a living room without having to look at a bright orange and green cooker and a box of Barbies.
The only problem in reclaiming my house is that I’ll have to also decorate (sob) and confront my daughters’ hoarding habits. Hmmm, perhaps in the New Year.