The Five Stages of Downsizing
Officially Empty Nesters, we're leaving our McMansion and downsizing into a house with only 3 bedrooms and 1 1/2 baths. Going through the process of sorting out our stuff, I've decided that there are stages to the process. Similar to Elizabeth Kubler-Ross' Five Stages of Grief I've come up with my own version of The Five Stages of Downsizing:
- Denial -- It won't be that bad. It will feel good to get rid of things. Moving is an adventure.
- Anger -- Where did I get all this stuff and why did I keep it?
- Bargaining -- If I promise to lose 10 pounds do I get to keep my wardrobe?
- Depression -- Where has the time gone? Seems like only yesterday someone was playing with these toys and wearing these little mittens.
- Acceptance -- It's time to move on. Your kids don't want this stuff either. Toss it!
You gather what seems to be way too many boxes from liquor store, Home Depot and all the boxes that you've saved from the prior two Christmas's Internet shopping. You survey the room and determine a timetable for completely emptying all the closets, drawers, shelves and add a little more time to cover all items you're bound to discover under the beds. It should be noted however that moving is like the childbirth. You forget the pain of the ordeal until you're going through it again. It's also similar to house painting. You always underestimate how long it will take to paint the room and want to quit somewhere into the third day.
Begin the culling process in your own closet with shoes. You decide that one can never have too many black shoes but think it might be prudent to try each pair on, just to make sure they still fit. Some have chunky heels, others are knock-me-down-and-do-me-pumps. You try those on first, taking time to see if you can still dance in them, which reminds you of that party you went to in 1999. That red dress was your favorite of all time. Wonder where it is? You hunt through the closet and find it next to poncho you bought the first time they were in style. Wonder if it still fits? You drop the box you started filling with souvenir t-shirts to slip it on. Damn. it only gets part of the way over your torso then gets hung up on your hips. Have you gained weight? Better go get on the scale and check.
You leave the closet and head to the bathroom to check your weight. When was the last time you flossed? Better do it now before you forget. You throw a couple of Crest Whitestrips across your teeth. Might as well bleach since you've already flossed. Hey, there's the make-up drawer. No sense taking old make-up with you. Wow, that is a lot of lipstick! Which one looks the best? You try several on, wiping it off in between applications. You decide to keep all of them. Time to follow the expert's advice and toss all mascara over 6 months old and all lipstick over a year. Is there any mascara left in the tube? Hey, wonder which works better -- long and lovely or thick and full? Let's put some on one eye and some on another and test it? Shoot, it's hard to tell without your reading glasses. Oh no! reading glasses magnify your skin. You are in serious need of a facial.
Open the kitchen junk drawer to find the card for the spa. Pens. Lots of pens. Do they still write? You test them on the back of the spa card. They all work except the Hello Kitty stocking suffer. It's sentimental. You decide to keep it anyway. Batteries. Wonder if they're still good? Wouldn't want to take up space with dead ones. You go in search of a remote control to test them. Find remote in cabinet with the VCR which has been collecting dust since you wore the red dress. Aw...home videos of your daughter. Haven't watched them forever. You grab a Diet Coke and sit down to watch. After 7 dead batteries you find 2 that work. The video starts with that dance recital when you daughter was in Pre-school. You sit through 11 minutes of other dancers before she makes her entrance. Choking back some tears you wonder where the time has gone and long for the days of little pink ballet slippers.
Ballet slippers are surely in a drawer in your daughter's room. You open one and pull out 9 pieces of artwork and a sketch pad with only one page marked up. Wonder what she was drawing in the one with a blue circle and glitter glue? What if she becomes a famous artist? Better keep all examples of her early work.
End of day 1. 3 boxes packed. Four tissues used. 55 boxes to go.
Day 2. Carefully wrap each item to be packed and sort it by room. You mark each box with the new room and a description of the contents. Moving isn't so bad. You will arrive in your new home lighter and organized. This is fun.
Day 7. AKA The Attack of the Kibbles and Bits. The counters and drawers are full of bits and pieces of things that you've walked by for a week and decided they can't be thrown away and will be packed later. The Kibbles and Bits are things like decorative wine corks, partially used rolls of tape, the aforementioned dried up Hello Kitty pen and the little bottles and soaps you've collected on various vacations and business trips over the years because you read in Martha Stewart that they add a special touch on the bedside of a guest room. You open the bottle from that spa in Sonoma and a quick whiff gives you a flashback to the couples massage you took together. You decide to keep it.
Day 8. The What-the-Hell Swipe and Dump. Moving bites! You've finally avoided the Kibbles and Bits long enough. They haunt your every waking moment. You grab a trash bag and start to throw perfectly good but homeless stuff into it with the wild abandon of a scorned actress in an old movie swiping dishes off a table. Half a box of Q-Tips? Gone! Six unsharpened pencils. Gone! A lone wallet-sized senior picture? Gone! Two mismatched place-mats? Gone! Entire drawer contents? Gone! Gone! Gone!
Whew! Tired and sweating glistening you channel
your inner Scarlett O'Hara, raise your fist to the sky and vow "As God
is my witness, I'll never accumulate STUFF again!"
This original 50-Something Moms post is the first of many in Lollie's downsizing saga.
