Decluttering: getting the family involved

Last week I told you about how I spent an entire day sorting the contents of my attic. Because I had the whole house to myself, I was able to get a lot done. I made a ridiculous mess and still had time to put things back together before my family returned later that afternoon. Days like that are rare, but it was a great opportunity to get my head around what once felt like an overwhelming task.

The next day I got the family involved.

First, the furniture:

My husband hauled a bunch of furniture that we'd stored in the attic and garage out to the driveway, and later that morning, the Kidney Foundation came to pick it up.

The furniture was in good condition, and I'd considered doing a yard sale for years. In the end, donating it saved a ton of valuable time. If someone else can use it, I'm fine giving it away. (We'd already passed down most of the good baby gear directly to friends who needed it.)

Then, the toys: 

Until my kids were about two or three, I donated/purged toys without their input. But I learned the hard way that eventually they'll notice what's missing and get really offended when they discover you're the culprit. I've also learned that my kids are pretty efficient at decluttering their own belongings. When I go, "What the heck is this?", they say, "That can go in the trash," or "I've been looking for that!" and put it back where it belongs. 

This time around, we started with books and stuffed animals.

I dumped them all in the dining room and let my kids pick what they wanted to keep. They didn't spend too much time dwelling on a particular item. They had a good sense of what felt special to them and what didn't, so I let them do their thing.

Then, once it was all sorted, I took the "keep" containers back to the attic. (I swear I'm going somewhere with this. The attic is an amazing "holding spot" for works in progress.) The rest will get donated. 

Then, we sorted the very, very, special toys—toys that we plan to keep for a while: trains, Hess trucks, matchbox cars, and Power Rangers. (I gave up on trying to organize Legos years ago. I tossed all of the boxes and dumped thousands of pieces in a giant container. They love it this way, because they prefer to make their own things. Related: I will never buy another expensive Star Wars Lego set again.)

My tween son Dillon was obsessed with Thomas the Train when he was younger, and he decided that he'd keep most of the trains (and some of the track because Cate seemed to like it).

He's at an age now where he doesn't play with these things anymore, but he wants to display them. He lined his trains up on a bookshelf.  

My eight-year-old Blake is incredibly devoted to Power Rangers and has been for years. So I dumped a giant bucket of Megazords on the floor and tasked him with putting them back together. He was excited to take on the job. 

Notice the bare walls and painters tape. Another project for another day.

And so, this is how we spent the better part of a summer day, and it was glorious. My children did what I asked them to do with no complaints (what?!) and then played with their pared down selection of toys.

Sometimes, I'd hear Dillon call out the name of a train and it took me back to an earlier time; I could hear the sound of his toddler voice. The whole time, I stayed close.  Supervising but not hovering. It was surprisingly easy—the way they were into it and the way it flowed. When it comes to what I consider a perfect mom day, this one ranks high.