Motoring

Four and a half years ago when I started this blog, after watching my first episode of Hoaders, I remember looking for other hoarding blogs. I know I've written about it once or twice and how disappointing it was that they didn't keep up with their blogging. It made me think that perhaps they weren't successful with dehoarding their homes and getting their lives back together. Had they stopped blogging, because they had fallen off the wagon, so to speak, and were just embarrassed to come back and admit it? It saddened and concerned me. It made me wonder, if I'd ever be able to get it all done myself. 

It didn't dawn on me that perhaps blogging got to be too much for those who had started their journeys and that life won out. At least it didn't dawn on me until it happened to me.

The last several months have been full of, well, life. That, and my computer died on me. So I'm actually borrowing Bugster's computer for the day, so I could peruse the internet for awhile and drop by for a quick blog post.

Since Hubster had his gallbladder out back in March, our lives have been filled with all sorts of everything. 

Scooter's had some health issues that caused liver and spleen enlargement, (We never did find out the cause, but she's doing much better now.), she graduated from high school, and she's now going to her day program 5 days a week, and is thrilled she didn't have to start school last week with the rest of the students in the district! 

Hopper has done very well. A year ago, we took her in for a surgery consultation. The doctor was willing to do the surgery, but she wanted Hopper to lose some weight, so the insurance company would be more willing to approve the surgery. She's lost 29 pounds, (12 of which she'd gained in the previous year due to some medication she was taking), and the surgery is a go. We just barely got approval for it a few weeks ago, but we are beyond thrilled that she will be able to have this surgery! It will be life-changing for her. The downside of this is that her anxiety is quite high while she awaits the surgery scheduled for the end of October. 

I definitely added to her stress level. The last 2 weeks of July, I was in class for 8 hours a day to become a CNA. Hopper doesn't do well at all with change, so for me to not be home during the day was very difficult for her, in spite of the fact that I was always here with the girls in the evenings. The days were long, though. The girls' hours were extended at the day program for those 2 weeks, and it just took its toll. It was wonderful getting out of the house, being back in the school setting, and meeting people, but it was also exhausting. Still, I would do it all again in a heartbeat! 

Unfortunately, it's brought out the worst in my fibromyalgia. I've been in the worst flare I've had since I was diagnosed with it 6 years ago. It doesn't help that I ran out of some of the things that help when it gets out of control. Thankfully, they should be here tomorrow, so I will, hopefully, be fully functioning again soon. And thankfully, we haven't had any major wildfires this year, so my asthma is under much better control than it was a year ago. I'm still on a small amount of daily oral steroids, but I should be done with them shortly, so things are looking up.

I'm looking forward to taking my state test, so I can get my license and be hired on to be the girls official caretaker. It will be really odd to have an income for the first time in our 28 year marriage. It's not that I wasn't allowed to work outside the home. Hubster's not like that. I'm not, either. If he had said that he didn't allow me to work outside the home, my first stop would have been to flood the market with job applications. But I can't think of a single job where I'd have been able to call in and say, "Yeah. I need the next 3 weeks off... Hopper and Scooter have another cold." So this will be a life-changing thing for our family, and I'm looking forward to the freedom it will allow us.

Now to answer my original question. Have I left my blog, because I'd fallen off the dehoarding wagon and was too embarrassed to admit it, or has life just been overly full?

I'd like to think it's mostly that life just got in the way. While the dehoarding has taken a backseat to life, it's still in the car, and we're still putting along.

I'm Going Back to School.

Kind of.




I'm doing homework again. The other day, I started watching Hoarders all over again, starting with season 1. I realized I've been slipping into some of my old hoarding behaviors, and I just don't want to go backwards. I think the habits may be surfacing due to stress, but I'm not entirely sure. I know that my dehoarding has definitely slowed over the last few years, but the last few years have been very stressful, too. And while the dehoarding had slowed down, I wasn't actively hoarding anything. I just wasn't getting rid of things like I had been there for awhile.


But last week things changed.

I'd gotten the last yogurt out of the case, and as I was tearing the box up to fit it in the trash I noticed that there were Box Tops for Education on the carton. I know I've got a gallon bag of them floating around the house somewhere, and I know that they could bring in a few dollars for a local school, so I figured I'd start saving them again. So I tore them off the carton and figured I'd just go back and trim them down with scissors, so they'd be neat. That old perfectionism thing rearing it's ugly head once again. 

But when I'd torn the one off the carton, I'd torn the corner of the BTFE off. If I was going to trim them to be neat, I'd also need to tape that one back together. So I just tossed them on the counter with the thought of getting the scissors and going back to them right away. But then the phone rang, or I had to help one of the girls or something else took my attention, and I forgot about getting the scissors. I'd remember the scissors every time I went in the kitchen, but I'd never actually get the scissors. So they just sat there. For a week. And in that week, I noticed every other BTFE on every other item we buy that carries them. And I found myself searching them out with my eyes, so I would remember which products had them, so I wouldn't forget to cut them off and save them.  

And I found myself getting stressed over it, because I noticed some of them had expiration dates on them. And what would I do, if I spent time to save them up and then dropped the ball by letting them expire. And was it worth it in the long run? Yeah. I think they're probably worth it for someone who doesn't have a hoarding problem, but I realized it wasn't worth it for me. Heck. After this year, we won't even have anyone in school anymore. So after a full week of it sitting on the counter calling me names, and calling my name, and making me feel guilty for not getting the scissors and tape, I gave myself permission to throw the Box Tops For Education in the trash. I gave myself permission to not be responsible for saving the local school through little coupons on boxes. 

Twas small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

But while I was basking in the glow of snatching that small victory from the jaws of defeat, I was snapped out of a fog that I hadn't even realized had descended upon me. I noticed a light bulb I'd set aside last week when I changed the one that had burned out. I'd seen a couple of cute little crafts using old light bulbs that I thought would be fun to do when I ran across them, and I'd set the bulb aside. You know. For when I could get to it in my spare time. I mean, I could make all sorts of adorable Christmas ornaments out of them, but the one I really thought was inventive was where you take the filament out of the bulb and turn it into a vase. Cute!

And then I realized I didn't have just one light bulb set aside. I had 3 of them that had burned out at roughly the same time. Except one was on my kitchen counter, and was on the big television armoire we'd turned into a pantry a few months ago. And all of the sudden, I saw really sharp shards of glass cutting Hopper and Scooter, and I decided that light bulb crafts are not in my near future. They take up too much space to save at this time, so they're gone. If Bugster wants them for crafting, she can have them and can pick them up this weekend. If she doesn't, they will go in the trash. 

And then, out of the blue, I remembered the laundry basket of unmated socks that was still sitting downstairs waiting for me. It's been waiting for me for 3 years. That's long enough. So I tossed my hoarding issues aside and went through the basket. I found about a dozen pair of socks, saved a few socks that we'd purchased relatively recently that I knew the other half of the pair was around somewhere, and then I threw the rest in the garbage.  I think there had to have been between 150 and 200 single socks in there. I didn't take the time to count. 

There were 2 socks - 1pink, 1 light green - that still felt new, and soft, and unworn, but I didn't remember when we'd gotten them. There were actually 3 different colors, but I'd found one full pair of blue ones, and for some reason, I didn't keep the 2 singles. I tossed them out with the others. And wouldn't you know it, but a few hours later, I came across the other pink sock under a piece of furniture in Scooter's room. 

Crap.

I knew I could go out to the garbage and retrieve the mate and nobody else would ever even know. Besides, I knew it was the last thing I'd put in the bag, so the sock would be right on top. And just like the Christmas tree tin that called my name from the trash that cold winter night over 4  years ago, the little pink sock was trying to get my attention. From outside. In the trash can. 

:::sigh:::

I've been fighting the urge to dig the little pink sock out of the trash and reunite it with its mate for the better part of the day. It was so unfamiliar to once again feel those physical symptoms I felt that night 4 years ago when I threw that tin away. And then I remembered that it was just a crew sock. And Scooter doesn't like that length of sock nearly as much as she likes knee socks. And she has plenty of socks in both lengths. And I realized that we can always buy another pair, if she needs some. I mean it's not like it would bankrupt us.

Besides. I need to do the homework. It's worth the cost of a pair of socks or two, and it's way cheaper than therapy. I just don't want to slide backwards down that slippery slope I so carefully climbed a few years ago. 

Granted, I still have a long way to go before our home is completely dehoarded, but I'll get there one day. 

I just have to do my homework.

The Continuing Saga Of The Blue Basket. Part 2.

A few weeks ago, I was perusing Craigslist and found a pair of matching end tables that I will eventually paint for each of the girls to use as night stands. They were in great shape. Solid oak. Probably around 80 years old and heavy duty enough to stand up to the use and abuse the girls will put them through. Each has a shallow drawer that runs the length and width of the table as well as a small cupboard on the top with doors that look like picture frames. They're going to be perfect for the girls, and I can't wait to get them painted. 


In the meantime, Scooter has been using hers since we brought it home. The drawer is perfect for her bracelets, headphones and mp3 player and her belts. She loves being able to pick out which bracelets she's going to wear for school, and she loves putting them away. But when Hopper scoops everything up and tosses it in The Blue Basket, they don't always get put away, and it makes for a very frustrating search, not to mention broken necklaces. They end up getting tangled in her strings, and when she tries to separate necklace from shoestring, the necklace almost always breaks.


Unfortunately, I've had to take a lot of her necklaces away, because they've broken, or to prevent such a fate for those that have somehow survived her clutches. Some necklaces went in the trash, and others were saved to be mended at some point when I had time.  


Yesterday, I had time.


I was working in the kitchen when I came across a small paper bag that I'd put some of the broken necklaces. I decided to mend them, and I had them all laid out on the couch for Scooter to see when she came home from school. She was absolutely thrilled! She wanted to wear all of them, but I told her that she could only wear 2, because we didn't want them to break. Then I explained that they needed to be hung up, so they didn't get tangled or broken. She would know exactly where they were when she got ready for school, and it would be easy for her to pick out the one she wanted to wear that day. 


She did really well with leaving the necklaces where she'd hung them for several hours. Right before before bed, she did try to take them down to put them in the drawer, but I explained again that I would have to take them away, if she took them down. I'm really hoping I finally got through to her.


Because Hopper and I had another talk yesterday, she helped keep Scooter on track tonight instead of adding to the problem. When Scooter tried adding Hubster's shirt to her basket, Hopper took it in our bedroom for me, and Scooter was fine with it. Normally, she'd have gotten frustrated and retrieved the shirt for herself, so it was a step in the right direction.


I am so proud of both of them, and I'm incredibly hopeful that we finally have this under control. I will keep enlisting Hopper in the battle that lies ahead, and I will continue to let them know how proud of them I am that they are helping to keep their rooms clean and keep the mess out of the living room. 


After all, it was a lot easier to only carry The Blue Basket into the bedroom last night than it was to carry a quarter of the contents of her bedroom back in there.


Unfortunately, when we woke up this morning and got Scooter up to get ready for school, we saw that she had taken all of her scarves and necklaces back down and put them in her basket. I reminded her that she would not be able to wear either a scarf or a necklace to school today, and that I would be putting them up when she was gone. I'd told her before she went to bed last night what the consequence would be, and I do believe she understood. But she also has always loved to push the limits and see how serious I am about something. 


This morning she needed to know I was serious. 


When she got home, the first thing she did was sign that she was sorry. In fact, she did it most of the evening. She was wanting so badly to get her hands on her things. I explained that we'll try again tomorrow, but if she takes them down and puts them in her basket she will be grounded, and I will have to remove them again.


There's no doubt that it's going to be a battle. But it is a battle worth fighting, and it's a battle that can be won.

Several years ago, she would untie her shoes at least 20 times an hour. It was exhausting, but we finally broke her of the habit. It helped that I had the backing of her teachers and aides. And it helped when I realized that she had to have her shoe laces tied perfectly. She needed the bows to be symmetrical and they needed to be triple tied. She counted. Every. Single. Time. She still does, and if you don't do it right, she sticks her foot out for you to try it again. 

It took quite awhile to get her to relax enough with her shoe laces that she could allow asymmetry or only double knots from time to time. She doesn't seem to have much of a problem with it anymore, so we have hope that we can break this habit eventually, too. 


It's going to take work, but with Hopper actually helping instead of 'helping', I know we can do this. Scooter needs to be comfortable with just being able to see that the necklaces and scarves are there and that she doesn't have to have them with her all the time.


It's going to be an uphill battle for sure, but we've got our figurative hiking boots on.

The Continuing Saga Of The Blue Basket. Part 1.

I've written about Scooter's Blue Basket that she carries her strings and small toys in and takes wherever she goes before. While she did okay keeping things contained to her basket for awhile, things have been out of hand for the last several months. To be fair, there's been a lot going on the last 8 months, and I didn't make it a priority. 


Until the last few days.


Scooter has gotten into some really bad habits lately, and they've been fueled by Hopper. Hopper knows that Scooter likes to have all of her bracelets, necklaces, scarves, strings, bandannas and babies, including Penelope, with her at all times. She also likes to pick up any pair of slippers or shoes Hubster and I aren't wearing at the time and pile them with her things on the couch. Scooter also can't seem to get enough of our clothes, either, so she gets our sweatshirts, sweaters, or shirts and piles them next to her. If she's sitting on the loveseat, she covers the entire thing and sits on the front few inches of the cushion, and if she's on the couch, she ends up covering it completely, even though it's even bigger than the loveseat. 


Not only is it frustrating that she claims an entire piece of living room furniture for herself, but it's also frustrating that my attempts to quell things have been so ineffective.


But Hopper is part of the reason for that. There have been times that Scooter would have been fine with only part of her things being out in the living room with her when Hopper jumps in and drags the rest of the crap out for her. And where Scooter would maybe be happy with just some of the stuff, Hopper would seek out our shoes, slippers, sweatshirts, etc., and she would empty Scooter's nightstand of all contents, (usually bracelets, necklaces, headphones and mp3 player), and bring it all out to add to the stash. 


In an effort to dissuade Scooter from bringing all her things out every single day, we stopped helping her carry them. It would take her a good 15 minutes to carry everything back to her bedroom every night, and she often dropped her babies which was loosening the electronic innards. However, when we would be getting Scooter ready for bed, Hopper would drag everything back into the bedroom, and nothing would be put away where it was supposed to go. 


It's been exasperating to say the least.


So the other day when Hopper was in a really good mood, I told her I needed her help to teach Scooter to keep her bedroom clean and the living room clean. I showed how some of Scooter's musical bears, her babies, are clattering inside from being dropped and how they're not going to work, if they keep being dropped when Scooter is trying to take her stuff back into her bedroom. 


On Sunday, Bugster brought some belts, scarves and necklaces with her for the girls that she no longer used. Scooter loves to wear scarves to school, but Bugster helped us out and told her that she had to keep them hung up, and she couldn't keep them in her basket, or she would take them back. So we hung them up on her bedroom door and reminded Scooter they needed to stay up there, so she could wear one to school the next day. 


Well, Monday morning came, and the scarves were all mixed in with the pile of stuff that makes its way around the house. We told Scooter that, because the scarves weren't hanging up like we told her they needed to be, that she didn't get to wear one to school. She handled it all really well, until Hopper decided to help a sista out and bring one of the scarves out for Scooter to wear. When we nixed the idea, she was not happy! But we held our ground. She had an okay day at school, but the moment she got home, I had her hang the scarves up on the hooks on the back of the door. When she was done, she picked out a scarf to wear around the house. Just one. And she left the rest of them hanging on the back of the door. 


Progress. 


Finally.

Help for Hoarders

I've been working on a few extras for my blog. The following will be in a tab at the top of the page for future reference, and I will add to it as I come across things that I think may help others in their hoarding journey. 


Although I've done come this far in my journey without outside professional help, I know that not everyone can do that. I will be listing different websites that have helped me over the last two years or that may be helpful to those who are starting on this journey.


My very favorite and most used website is Pinterest. I'm a very visual person, and Pinterest is a very visual website where you 'pin' pictures to a pinboard, much like taping pictures of your dream vacation or recipes to the refrigerator. It's like a visual favorites list. If a recipe, craft idea, piece of clothing, saying, or anything else you come across has a picture, you can pin it to your Pinterest board. You can see at a glance what you're looking for, instead of going on a futile search through all your bookmarked favorites trying to remember what website you saw way back when and trying to remember what folder you put it in. I heart this website!!


**Just found out that there is some controversy over using Pinterest. I'm so sad. I'm not sure, if I'm going to delete my account or not, but use it at your own risk. You can read about the controversy here. 


Cozi - I love this website! I can not only make grocery lists but to-do lists, as well. The lists can be accessed by either computer or phone. As you check things off your list that are no longer pertinent, the check mark shows up instantly. So if you are shopping at the grocery store with someone else, and you pick up the milk and check it off the list, it shows up as checked off on the other person's phone, too! I love this feature! No more calling from the produce department to the hardware department to find out, if the other person picked up the bananas, and no more showing up at the checkout stand with extra stuff, because you both thought you were supposed to get it. No more lost little paper lists for us! No doubt we will be using this website for years and years to come.

A lot of people find iDoneThis very, very helpful. It helps to keep you on track for a goal you have set by sending you an email each day. You respond to the email with what you've accomplished that day toward your goal, and it keeps a log of it for you. I find that I don't use it much, because I'm using my blog to keep track of what I get done each day, but I think it's perfect for someone wanting to work on dehoarding without keeping a public record of it. Obviously, dehoarding is but one of many, many things you could track through iDoneThis. If I ever get out of the habit of taking my medicines again, I will probably use this site to help me remember to take them regularly. I think it's an awesome idea.


FlyLady is another site a lot of people find helpful. Most people have probably already heard of or tried FlyLady by now, since she's been around for over a decade, but it's still worth listing. FlyLady is a group of local internet support groups that fall under one umbrella group. They send out hints on how to clean your house and maintain it one little section at a time. You can be emailed daily reminders and encouragement to keep you going. I wasn't ready for the number of emails when I signed up for it, (although you can sign up for it without the daily emails, if I recall correctly), and I felt completely overwhelmed by them, but I know others who absolutely swear by it. I just think I should mention it here, because it might be the perfect fit for someone out there who is looking for hints and a way to stay on track. I don't really think it's geared for someone who has hoarding problems, though. I think it's more for someone who struggles with daily upkeep in a mildly cluttered home.


The International OCD Foundation has a plethora of information on OCD and other related disorders, including hoarding. Not only can you find an online support support group, but you can find a therapist that specializes in those different disorders, as well. It's a great resource for those who are suffering from or whose loved ones struggle with disorders on the OCD spectrum.


The Yahoo group, Compulsive Hoarding Community, or H-C, is a working support group that requires members to actively work at dehoarding their homes. This is an invaluable resource for those on all levels of dehoarding, whether they have dehoarded their homes and are now maintaining a clutter-free home, or they are just beginning. It's a great place to start, if you're not sure what to do.


I will be adding other resources as time goes by. If you know of any that I may have missed or that have helped you out, please feel free to shoot me an email.

How do I know, if I'm a hoarder? Pt 2 - Feeling responsible for everything.

While watching the hoarding shows, I recognized a familiar stress in the participants of the show when they were challenged to get rid of certain items. Sometimes, they were little things like empty cans or jars that could be recycled. Other times, it may have been something that belonged to a loved one who was no longer alive.


The person being asked to make a decision would often look like a deer caught in the headlights. You could see the fight or flight response kick into high gear. They were scared. There is no doubt that they wanted to just run and hide. 


I get it. I've been there. I've felt that very thing when I've tried to make decisions about getting rid of stuff over the years. Instead of making a decision, I would just decide to make a decision later. It wasn't logical that I had such battles with myself to get rid of some of these things, but struggle I did.


For example, I really wrestled with getting rid of ketchup packets. I mean, really. Ketchup packets? It made no logical sense, but I was afraid of wasting them. I mean, it's not like the world would come to an end, if I threw them in the trash, but they were good food. Surely someone could use them, but I didn't know who, and I didn't want them taking up space in the refrigerator anymore, but I didn't know what to do with them. As silly as it sounds, I felt a responsibility to be a good steward of the condiments, and I was was terrified of making the wrong decision. 


So I just didn't decide.


I didn't decide which of the girls' clothes to get rid of. I didn't decide which toys needed to go. I didn't decide which clothes I no longer needed. I didn't decide which mugs I loved and really wanted to keep.


I kept everything, so that I didn't make the wrong decision. 



I remember feeling a panic in my gut when I would see someone throw a newspaper or pop can in the trash instead of putting them aside to be recycled. After all, it was irresponsible to just throw things away that had any use left in them. It was my job to save stuff like that from the landfills. I would get it to it's proper place. It was my responsibility. 


Except that it wasn't.


I was miserable. I felt absolutely overwhelmed by stuff. I was carrying the weight of every single pair of pants, every shirt, every toy, every baby blanket, every newspaper, every pop can and every ketchup packet on my shoulders. 


I felt mentally paralyzed. 


How was I ever going to have the time to find the right home for each piece of clothing that the girls had outgrown? How would I ever find the mates to all of the socks? I couldn't just give a half a pair of socks away. They'd just be tossed in the trash. People need 2 socks. They have 2 feet. I needed to find all of them, so I could match them up and find them the proper homes.


What about the toys and puzzles? I knew that the pieces were all there for each one, but I also knew that some of the pieces were in the garage, some were in their bedroom, and some were downstairs. How was I ever going to reunite the pieces, so the toys would be complete? No child was going to want an incomplete toy, but we spent hard earned money on them, and it would be a total waste to just throw them in the trash. Right?


The more I fought to figure it all out, the more paralyzed I felt. 


I knew others could see that same fear in my eyes that I saw in those who appeared on the shows. 

How do I know, if I'm a hoarder? Pt 1 - Acquiring

Over the last couple of years, I've noticed 2 recurring searches that bring people to my blog. The first is something along the line of, "How do I know, if I'm a hoarder?" The second is variations along the line of, "Where do I start/How do I start to dehoard?"

I will try over the next few days to answer these questions to the best of my ability.

In my opinion, if a person is searching about information on whether or not they are a hoarder, the chance is they have a problem. It's only a matter of degree. 

I realized that I had a hoarding problem after watching Hoarders the very first time. I physically felt the anxiety the participants in the show felt when someone would try to help them discard things. Whether it was someone demanding that something be thrown, a family member chiding or ridiculing them for saving something, or touching their things, I felt their anxiety. I could feel my heart rate noticeably increase, my palms begin to get sweaty, and my stomach start to flip. It scared me, because I saw myself in the people on the screen. 

I was taught to trust my gut, and I knew. 

I. just. knew.

Several years prior, I recognized I had a major problem with acquiring. I loved shopping, and if I found something that I thought was  good buy, I would buy every item like it on the shelf when 1 or 2 would have been enough. 

I was obsessed with bargains. 

If for some reason I didn't buy an item I'd thought about buying when I was out and about, I wouldn't be able to get it out of my mind. Seriously. The thought that I had to have it would wake me out of a dead sleep, and I would go on the hunt for it the following day. If I was too late and the thing was gone, I'd feel like I'd lost something. The feeling of loss was very unsettling. 

If I was able to actually buy the item when I went back to the store, I would be elated. Giddy, even. But it didn't last long. I would often be disappointed within a day or two of bringing my purchases home. At times I would come to my senses and return my purchases, but more often than not something would prevent me from returning things to the store. 

I didn't enjoy using those things that I knew I shouldn't have bought. If I bought 6 of the exact t-shirt in different colors for the girls I would feel guilty about it when I would get them dressed. Even if the clothes were as little as $1 each, I would feel guilty over having bought as many as I did, because I knew they could never wear them often enough to wear them out. 

I hated myself for being so weak.

I noticed on the hoarding shows that most of the homes had bag up on bag upon bag of purchases that had been dropped when they were brought in the house and totally forgotten. I recognized that was part of the hoarding behavior, and I recognized that I had struggled with that very issue for years. 

From time to time I find myself slipping into the same mindset I had when I was acquiring. When I notice that I'm debating buying more of something than I need or we can use, I purposely stop and ask myself, if I really want or need the things in my shopping basket. Thankfully, I don't find myself in the position often, and 99 times out of 100 I put the items back on the shelf. 

Years ago when the acquiring was so out of control, I went shopping several times a week. Now it's rare, if I go shopping more often than once every 2 weeks. I have noticed that the longer the time between shopping trips the harder time I have saying no at the register. Being mindful of this, I often window shop online to exercise my 'no' muscle and keep it strong. I put things in my online shopping cart and then never go through the checkout process.

I don't want to go back to unhealthy habits again. 

Coming clean.

Almost 2 years ago, I walked around the house in a bit of a panicked daze taking pictures of how things looked before we started the dehoarding process. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done. It brought me face to face with my hoarding problem, and it made me sick to my stomach. 

But it also motivated me. As a result, the levels of hoarding throughout the house have decreased. In some rooms, the decrease has been substantial.

Our bedroom probably started at about a 3 on the Clutter Image Rating on the International OCD Foundation site I mentioned the other day. Today, our bedroom pretty much stays at a 1, although the night stands climb to a 2 from time to time. Both Hubster and I find that we can't seem to allow it to go over a 2 before we go nuts and clean things out again. It's been pretty nice knowing it's always our little refuge from life.

There has been a much more drastic change in the girls' rooms. 

A year before we realized we had a hoarding problem, the basement flooded due to a burst pipe. A lot of stuff was ruined as a result of the flooding, and what survived was stuffed into storage pods on the driveway. Even though she'd only been staying in the room for about a year before the mess, Hopper's room had been freshly painted, and it was the only dehoarded room in the house. But it became a dumping area for everything that wouldn't fit in the storage pods on the driveway, and we had to start over from scratch in her room.

With all that had been stored in Hopper's room, it would have easily rated a 7 on the visual scale. Mom helped me get it done when she was down here last year. We worked really hard for several days, but it was so worth it. Hopper's room has been at a level 1 for the most part since we finished. From time to time, it gets to a 2, and I'm quite happy with that. The best part is that it will never get really bad again. Ever.

Scooter and Hopper shared what is now Scooter's room for many years. When the basement flooded, they had to share it again, and it was so incredibly frustrating. I would work for a week or more on the room and would never seem to be able to get it under a 3. Within a week of having it clean, the girls would undo everything I'd have gotten done, and it would be back up to a 5. The clutter would creep back up to a 6 or 7 within a couple of weeks. The girls still slept in their beds every night, but there would be piles of stuff that Hopper had stacked as high as 4.5 or 5 ft at the heads of their beds. I could never seem to get the room clean and keep it that way.

Because of the magnitude of the clutter in Scooter's room, I focused on it early on in my journey. Mom helped me get started on it when she came down for Bugster and Bubster's first wedding when they got married at the courthouse. I finished it after she went back home, but it wasn't easy. I know that I had to have gotten rid of enough toys in the bedroom to fill a 'grand' van from top to bottom, front to back, and side to side. That doesn't even count the amount of stuff that went to the trash and the clothes that found their way to the laundry room to be washed, sorted and donated. 

Since I finished cleaning Scooter's room, it's stayed clean. It would get messy from time to time before we got Hopper into her own room, but overall it has stayed clean. For the most part, Scooter's room remains at a 1, occasionally climbing to 2, but it has only gotten to a 3 once in the almost 2 years since it's been clean, and that was with Hopper's 'help'.

The bedrooms are definitely the biggest success stories, but I think they should be. The rest of the house hasn't fared quite as well. 

The laundry room, was probably a 7 or 8 on the visual scale at its peak. It was bad. Once we finished clearing out the laundry room, it stayed at a 1 or 2 for the longest time, but it's crept back up to a 3 with the hospitalizations this year and the stress from the guardianship. I'm working on getting it back together. Hopefully, I can get it down to a 1 and keep it there!

The living room and dining room/kitchen have never been too bad, so there hasn't been significant improvement like the other rooms. They've crept up to a 4 for short periods of time over the years, but they probably averaged a 3 before I started this dehoarding process. Since then they stay between a 2 and 3 on average. They get down to a 0 or a 1 from time to time, but they don't seem to want to stay there without help. 

There's also a large baker's rack in the living room that is a 7 all by itself. I don't count it as part of the rest of the room, because it's so out of place. I filled it up with paperwork when I was sorting through boxes back in October. I'll get it done eventually, but it might be awhile.

The study is bad again. It's always been a catchall, but it has the remnants of the paperwork I didn't get all the way through when I was sorting boxes. It's on the list. Not sure when I'll get it crossed off. I'd say it's currently a 5. I want to get it back down to the 1 it was years ago. It'll happen.

The garage had been really bad, too. Hubster thinks it was a 9 at its worst, but I think it was closer to an 8. Not that there's a huge difference between the 2. It's probably at about a 4, maybe a 5, since we worked in it about 18 months ago. We have plans to knock it out this Spring or Summer and get it under control. And the back porch? It easily started out as an 8, but it's probably at a 4 right now. It's also on the master list to finish up once the weather warms up.

The bathrooms have never been too bad - usually a 2 at the most, but we're in the process of remodeling a couple of them, so we just don't use them at all. They're not being used due to the remodel, not hoarding, so I'm okay with them.

That leaves the big room and workout room downstairs. They're the ones that were flooded, and we've worked so hard on. They were probably at an 8 or 9 before the flood 3 years ago. I'd say they're still at a 5, but that's because I still have to unpack and sort the boxes that had been in the pod on the driveway. I got through well over half of them, but I still have plenty to keep me busy.

So there it is. I've laid it all out there. 

We still have a lot to do, but we've made incredible progress over the last 2 years. I still can't believe it's already been 2 years, but it has. 

The really neat thing? In 2 more years, we should be at no more than a 2 in any room in the house. 

You can mark my words!

Where do you weigh in?

I know that I always wondered how bad a hoarding problem I had. I mean, I knew I had a problem, and I knew it would just continue to grow, had I not realized I had a problem with hoarding. But I still wondered exactly how I stacked up. How bad off am I?

The International Obsessive Compulsive Disorder Foundation has tests you can take to determine whether or not you have a hoarding problem. You can find them here, if you're interested in checking into it.

I tend to be a pretty visual person, so the thing that spoke the loudest to me was the Clutter Image Rating. Just scroll down a bit, and you'll find it.

The thing I found interesting was that there wasn't an image 6. Can't tell I have OCD, can you? Ever since I visited the site the first time, I have been thinking about whether or not they purposely left that picture out, or if it was a simple human mistake, and the pictures were numbered incorrectly. I go back and forth between wondering that and wondering, if it's a test. You know. To see, if people pick up on it, and then how many of them obsess over it.

Regardless of my warped thoughts on the whole #6 picture, it gives a really good visual idea of where a person's hoarding might fall on the scale. 

Life, loss and letting go.

For years, I've had trouble holding onto things.

Obviously, or I wouldn't be a hoarder, right?

Now that I'm back on my medicines and thinking more clearly, I'm making hard decisions about some of those things. With other things, my decision is not to make a decision right now.

For example, I've decided not to get rid of the ultrasound pictures of two of my pregnancies that ended in miscarriage. I didn't get an ultrasound the third time. By then, I knew what was happening, and I didn't want the heartache of seeing what was happening on a screen. I didn't want a picture to remind me. I don't regret that decision, but I also don't regret the decision of getting the pictures of  the first two.  

The pictures still bring me back to the loss I felt at the time...

The physical and emotional loss of the miscarriages themselves was hard enough. After all, we'd wanted every single baby I carried. But to be told that the little sac was empty was about more than I could handle. To know that our little ones had stopped growing just shortly after conception somehow made it worse. To know that they'd never even had a chance just killed me. 

It also made me feel like I had nothing to mourn. That I hadn't actually lost a baby, because there had never been a heartbeat. It didn't help that others actually told me I'd never been pregnant, since the sac was empty. That I didn't lose a baby. 

But I did. 


Three times.


I don't know, if they thought they were helping by minimizing my loss, but their words made it no less real. If anything, they made it worse. 


So I've kept these ultrasound pictures all these years. They are the only proof that we lost our babies. The only proof that they ever existed in the first place. Somehow, I feel that letting them go is saying they were never important to me. That somehow it's saying I didn't love them. That I didn't start thinking of names, imagining the nursery, picturing our babies' little faces in my mind the very moment I knew I was pregnant. 


I'm still not there. I might be someday, but only time will tell.


In the meantime, I've made some progress.


In the last several days, I've sorted through two small boxes that had each held six boxes of baby wipes, two apple boxes, and two  18 gallon totes full of paperwork. I've filled two huge black contractor bags with trash and ten more grocery bags with shredables. Five of them went out the door on Friday, and the rest will go out the door tomorrow. The stuff I've kept has been sorted into 3 categories. 

A small crate holds bills, paystubs and medical miscellaneous that I will scan and eventually toss into the shredables. A small box holds greeting cards and letters from loved ones that I will eventually scan. I don't know that I'll actually ever throw them away, but I will be scanning them, so they aren't lost forever, if something should happen to them. And the third is an apple box less than half full of drawings the girls did, stories written, IEPS and other miscellaneous things I'll be scanning when I get to it. 


My goal is to discard as much as possible once I've scanned it. Normally, I would try to scan it all as I sort it, but I've got to get through the boxes as quickly as possible, so I can find the birth certificates and social security cards I need. If I could just go down to the courthouse and order more, I would, but all 3 girls were born out of state from where we live now, and it's not as easy as it seems. It would take several weeks and $30 to $40 each to get copies, so I'll just keep working on the paperwork and scan things later.


I'm making progress. It's slow, but it's steady.


And I'm learning to let go. 

My get up and go got up and went.

I've been a bit discouraged lately. I've fallen out of some of the good habits that I worked so hard to establish. It's not that I'm actively acquiring things and adding to the hoard that lives in my house, but I've noticed my thought process isn't working nearly as well as it has at the height of my dehoarding. And while I realize my oomph and will for reaching my goal will ebb and flow on a daily basis, I have to admit that I'm tired of the ebb. It's lasted too long.


When we got the word that Hopper had broken her leg and would need the emergency surgery back in June, I started to stumble. That stumble turned into a free fall the moment I thought she had died in my arms and continued through the hospitalization and rehabilitation once we got home. When Hopper seemed to be getting back to her old self about 6.5 weeks after she broke her leg, the speed on the free fall slowed quite a bit, but I was still in a descent. 


A few ago I realized why I was feeling so out of control. With everything going on this summer with Hopper's leg, Bugster and Bubster's wedding, and the situation at school for Scooter I had completely forgotten about taking my meds. It explains why I've had such a hard time getting back in the groove of things, and why I can't seem to think straight.


I've noticed lately that I'm struggling with making decisions about getting rid of things. I've been second guessing myself, and as a result, I've put off dehoarding and even writing in my blog I've been so discouraged. I've felt almost paralyzed as a result of my indecisiveness, and it's driving me crazy. I want to get things done like I did at the height of my dehoarding. I want to get this stuff out of my house.


I started back on my meds a few days ago, and I will be diligent about taking them daily from now on. I can't afford to be paralyzed mentally like I've been. I feel like I'm trying to make it through quicksand. Like I'm being crushed to death by the weight of the pressure. Hyperventilating. Unable to draw a breath into my lungs. 


So yeah. I won't be forgetting my meds again anytime soon. 


I'm slowly but surely finding my way out of the dark. 


I made my way back into the study the last couple of days. I sorted through 3 more rather difficult boxes, with at least 95% of the stuff going into the shredables, the trash or into a 'get rid of' box. 


I do have to admit that I was excited to find some things I saved over the years as a reminder of just how far the girls have come. I found Scooter's feeding tube and feeding button she had to have when she was little, along with Hopper's ear pieces from the hearing aides she wore when she was much younger. (We donated the actual hearing aides years ago). In another bag, I found the images from when Hopper had her heart repaired as well as the spare coil they didn't have to use. I joked around that we needed to keep it, in case she needed an oil change. 


Mom didn't laugh, but I thought it was funny. 


And as odd as it seems to keep these particular things, I don't know, if I'll ever be ready to throw them out. They represent some major milestones in the girls' lives, and they're a physical reminder of just how much we've been through as a family. I want to make them into tasteful Christmas ornaments for our tree.  


Don't look at me like that.


It can be done!


Hubster took 9 more bags of shredables out the door yesterday, so that makes 72 grocery bags of preshredded documents to have left the house since I started this journey 18 months ago. I updated my sidebar to help me remind me of just how much I have accomplished. It just helps to see that sometimes.


I did use the portable document scanner the other night that Hubster got me for my birthday this summer. I can't explain how truly wonderful it was to scan some of the paperwork and then put it directly in the box to shred. I felt like I could breathe just a little bit deeper with each document that found it's way into the shredables.


I like breathing. 


I think I'll try to do it a little more often.

Necessity is the Mother of Invention, but who's the Mother of Necessity?

You've probably all heard the adage, "Waste not. Want not," right?


It's an awesome saying, and a wonderful way to live. That is, if you're not me. From the time I could remember, I have felt a moral obligation to not waste stuff - to find a use for anything that had any use left in it. I think I can squeeze use out of things that really have none left, and seeing the potential for practically everything is really cluttering to the mind.


I'm sure part of it came from growing up in a large family with not a lot of extra to go around. And I'm sure the fact that we've always been a single income family has played a role as well. But I think it's deeper than that. I think it's part of who I am to the core. Part of where I came from...


My grandparents raised their family during the Great Depression. Times were so incredibly tough then. At a time in history when women just didn't work outside the home, my grandmother cleaned the schoolhouse after hours to help make ends meet. I've heard stories all my life about how ingenuous she was. She absolutely amazed me my entire life. I adored her.


One of the things Mom has told me many times, is how Grammy would pick up left over construction paper off the floors when she was cleaning. Because this was during the Great Depression,every inch of available paper was used by someone. Nothing went to waste. The pieces of construction paper were often just slivers, but no piece was too small. She gathered them religiously.


Money was so incredibly tight during the Great Depression, that Mom and her brothers and sisters got one new pair of shoes a year. By the time the school year was over, the shoes no longer fit or had huge holes in them. They were all but abandoned, but that never seemed to be too much of a problem, for summer had arrived, and the kids would run around barefoot. 


Shoes weren't the only luxury for my mom's during the Great Depression. Clothes were, too. Grammy made most of the clothes for the entire family. Socks were darned until they were so well used they were literally falling apart. Clothes were handed down from the older kids to the younger until some clothes were worn by every child in the family, regardless of their gender. Like many women raising families during the Great Depression, my grandmother used feed sacks and flour and sugar sacks for fabric to make dresses for the girls and dress shirts for the boys.


But that wasn't enough for Grammy. She wanted to take away the sting of poverty. In spite of the fact that the girls knew their dresses were made from feed and flour sacks, Grammy wanted to make them special. She wanted her girls to know how much they meant to her. To know that they were more than their current economic status. So she got creative. 


When it was time to make dresses for her daughters, she would painstakingly separate the colors of construction paper and put them in a large vat of boiling water on the stove. She would then add the flour sacks that she'd thoroughly washed beforehand to the water.  Once the sacks, which had been opened at the seams to make a flat piece of fabric, had boiled long enough, she would rinse them and hang them to dry. Then she would get busy cutting out dress patterns on beautifully colored fabric and start sewing.


By the time Grammy was done, the girls would each have a beautiful new dress. Mom said it made her feel so incredibly special, that Grammy would go to all that trouble for them. It would be apt to say in this case that necessity truly was the mother of invention!


However, things have changed. Drastically. Overall, Americans today don't know what it truly means to need something. I know it's not the steadfast rule, but even in these rough economic times, the vast majority of homes have at least one computer, one cell phone and one car, if not two or more of each, plus cable or satellite television. We just have access to an overabundance of stuff - especially clothing. We can buy at thrift stores, garage sales or from the clearance racks for just pennies on the dollar, and that doesn't even count the bags and bags of clothing people give away every day on Craigslist or the different online free groups that are out there.


Unfortunately, hoarding and overabundance go hand in hand. Sort of like the Titanic and icebergs. It definitely makes the waters a little rougher for me to navigate. It doesn't mean I can't or won't be able to keep my head above water.


It just means I have to learn how to swim.

Someday.

Scooter finally went back to school this week after having been sick all last week, and Hopper started her day program again, so I am trying to get back into a routine. It's been easier said than done, but then again, it's also only been 2 days. And I'm trying to do the caffeine withdrawal thing again, without much success. I can't seem to do an extended hospital stay for the girls without getting hooked on soda again. I think it's because I'm afraid to sleep at the hospital, because I'm afraid the nurses will miss something I might catch. 


I know. 


I'm a control freak.


A control freak who's addicted to caffeinated pop once again.


It could be worse. I could be drinking a 6 pack or a 2 liter bottle a day, but I'm drinking less than half that. The rough thing is that I'm not sure, if I am going to try to get it out of my system before I get through my mountains of paperwork or not. It is what it is. I either will, or I won't, and I'm not going to stress over it.


The paperwork, on the other hand, is a totally different monster. I will be stressing over it until I get it finished, and I've got to get it done as quickly as possible.


Well, that's not entirely true. 


I just need to find the girls' birth certificates and social security cards. So if I find them, I can take a breather from the rest of the paperwork, if I need to.


So I worked through some really rough boxes tonight. I only got through two of them, and although I feel accomplished, it wasn't easy. Although the first box was easier than the second.


The first box had an assortment of paperwork. There was everything from old water bills to telephone bills that spanned several years, and bank receipts. It also held old hospital and doctor receipts as well as school papers, art projects and notes from each of the girls.


It was fairly easy to sort. If the art projects didn't have a name on them, and I couldn't tell who had done them, I tossed them. I saved some of the hospital and doctor bills/notes, if they had vital information on them, so I can scan them. For the most part, things were either thrown in the trash into the shredables, and almost all of the few things I saved will be scanned and then tossed.


I have to admit I felt pangs of guilt when I saw some of Hopper's papers in there. The school papers that I decided not to save weren't really the issue. It was the pages upon pages of her notebook papers that I threw that gave me pause. While I was going through them, to make sure there wasn't anything I was going to keep, I pictured her as a little girl piling all her special papers that she was so very proud of on top of Mom and Dad's piano stool.


For a moment or two I physically felt the same panic I used to feel when I would pick her papers up and put them in a box to hide them from her. I always felt guilty picking the papers up and taking them away from her when she wasn't looking, but if I hadn't we'd have had papers piled to the ceiling years ago. There was just so very little she ever asked for that I felt bad taking one of the few things away from her that she enjoyed so much. I didn't feel like a very good mom, for sure. And all of those feelings came rushing back tonight as I was going through the boxes. 


The feelings of unease carried over into the sorting of the second box. I absolutely abhor boxes like this one. It was a mix of paperwork, little toys the girls loved, necklaces, bracelets and mouse turds. There were a couple of tins in the box that I didn't save to use, but I did put with the scrap metal to recycle. And 90% of the stuff in the box went in the trash or in the shredables, but that doesn't mean it was easy to sort the stuff out.

The toys were plastic. I could sterilize the toys. I actually set them aside to do exactly that for awhile. There was a little change in the box as well, so I did clean it with an antibacterial wipe and put it in the piggy bank. I figured it was cleaner than the vast majority of coins in the piggy bank once I got done using the wipe on it, so that was easy enough. It's not like anyone will be handling it with any regularity anyway.

I found a copy of a letter Hubster's great grandfather had written in the 1890s that had been translated from Swedish to English after he'd moved to the States from Sweden so many years ago. There was also a snapshot of me and Hubster out at dinner when we were dating and a grouping of pictures that came out of a booth where you put quarters in at a mall to capture the moment. Bugster is holding a 3 month old Scooter on her lap, and the baby is wailing. Hopper is over to Bugster's side, and is laughing hysterically at the noises coming out of Scooter's mouth. It's a precious picture, to be sure, and I'm very glad I found it.


I also came across a 110 camera with a built-in flash in the box. I'll stick new batteries in and try to take the last couple of pictures on the film and then get it developed. I have no clue what we'll find when we get the pictures back. It ought to be interesting.


Most all of that was easy, but I really struggled when I came across the necklaces and bracelets. There was a really cute necklace with wooden hearts and wooden spools on it that I had just loved on the girls. It had a white heart, red spools, and a blue cord, and it was just adorable. I came really close to trying to figure out how to get it clean, so I could let Scooter wear it. She's really into jewelry, and she'd have loved it.


I mean, I could have soaked it in bleach water to make sure it was clean. The bracelets, too. One of the necklaces had definitely been made by Hopper or Scooter. It had all sorts of wacky, fun, colorful beads on it, including a pacifier bead, and I could have gotten in clean enough for the girls to wear again. And then I remembered all the beads we have downstairs just waiting for the girls to make new necklaces and bracelets, and how I really didn't need to save any of them. 


I probably would never feel comfortable enough to let the girls wear the bracelets and necklaces, even if I thought I'd gotten them clean enough. I'd likely just store them somewhere allowing them to make me feel guilty for not doing anything with them and not giving them to the girls and they'd sit there waiting for me to get to them. Someday. So I took a big breath, and I threw them in the trash.


Then I looked at the handful of toys I'd set aside to wash. I'm not sure what I'd have done with them. I probably would have bleached them til no color was left in the plastic all the while telling myself I was saving them for Bugster's babies. That she might just want to keep them for her little ones to play with. But she's going to want to buy toys for her little ones herself. She's not going to want toys that had mouse turds on them and she's not sure are clean enough for her babies. I don't want that for my grandchildren, either.


And then I realized the hoarder part of me was trying to take over. It was trying to make my decisions for me. To keep me feeling insecure. To keep me hanging on. To control me. 


So instead of waiting to deal with the toys Someday, I decided to deal with them now. Today. I threw them all in the trash, and although I have a slight residual feeling of panic, they're gone, and they're not coming back. 


I'll count it as a victory. 


A small victory, but a victory, nonetheless.


And it didn't happen Someday. It happened Today.

A Day In The Life...also known as: My Husband. My Hero.

The house is quiet.


For now.


It likely will only last about an hour, but I'll take it over the meltdowns that have happened daily since Hopper broke her leg. It's been a long 4 weeks since that happened.


I'm not complaining. At least I don't mean to be. I can't express how very thankful I am that she's doing so much better. And for the most part, I can handle the meltdowns. They mean she's getting back to her normal self, who absolutely hates being confined to a wheelchair and the frustration it brings. In ways, I'm thankful she's frustrated. It means she's not happy being stuck where she is, and she won't be comfortable staying in the wheelchair forever. She's got such an easy going spirit overall, that one could get the idea that she is fine with things never changing or with a lack of healing/growth on her part.


But I am honestly fatigued by the meltdowns. They wear on me. And while yesterday and today haven't been too bad, the last few weeks have been horrendous.


Bugster and Bubster had their wedding over the weekend, and I'm not sure, if it's a lack of sleep on the girls' part, (Let me break in here by saying the quiet was so quiet that I couldn't keep my eyes open, and we all took a much needed nap! Now...back to your regularly scheduled post...), or what, but the meltdowns have been plentiful. Saturday, the day of the wedding, Hopper probably had at least a dozen meltdowns throughout the day before the wedding. She had a couple more when we were at the park to break the pinata and then again at the ceremony.


Her meltdowns can be a bit contagious. And although Scooter hasn't has as many meltdowns as Hopper, Hopper's have triggered them. Sadly, Hubster and I are not immune. We normally have the patience to deal with a meltdown here or a meltdown there, but we've had no space between them in which to recover, and we've snapped a few times.


Hubby had his parents come over for a visit on Sunday while I was out with my sister and mom for a few hours. He wanted to give me a break, and he thought maybe it would be easier on me to have them over while I was gone, and I was all for both the break and not being here when they were seeing the house and all it hoards. However, it was a bit much for him to handle alone, and he said that he exploded out of pure frustration at Hopper. He didn't hit her. He didn't call her names. But he did yell at her. And he's got a big voice. It's not something that happens with any frequency. We try very hard not to yell at the girls, but we're human, and sometimes, when we've had no break from the stress, when there is no relief in sight, we've been known to yell. And while neither of us want to yell at the girls, we'd rather it come out as something loud rather than something hard like a fist.


And so, when I was away from the house, and Hubster was here alone with the girls, their moods, and their grandparents, he snapped. And his dad, in all his infinite wisdom, encouraged Hubster that maybe we needed to do it more often. After all, it caused her to stop her meltdown.


:::insert extra large eye roll here::::


Hubster put the girls to bed and then talked with his parents, who have never once showed an ounce of understanding for what goes on with the girls, either for us as parents or for our beautiful daughters. And how he didn't totally explode at his parents is beyond me. Instead, he asked a hypothetical question. He asked, "What would you have done, if I was out of control, and yelling didn't snap me out of it? Would you hit me? What if you couldn't or wouldn't hit me for whatever reason? What would you do then?"


His dad didn't have any answers.


He explained that every single day, grown people throw fits. That sometimes, "when Judy hurts my sensitive little feelings, I give her the silent treatment". That other times when an adult is going through a rough divorce, they end up murdering their entire families. And while these are only examples of fits that people throw, that adults with a normal mental capacity still have the ability to pull themselves into check and realize what they're doing. They can typically reason with themselves and stop throwing their fits.


However, the girls aren't typical. They feel the emotions that they feel when they feel them. They don't stuff them. The love, anger, sadness, happiness and joy they feel are more real than what most people feel, simply because they have no way of faking it. So when they're feeling overwhelmed, scared, sad and angry, it comes out in the form of a meltdown. And all we can do is allow them to feel it, even when they sometimes feel those deep emotions when it's not convenient to us.


So his mom asked, if we'd considered taking her to a psychiatrist. Had we considered drugs?


::::insert monumentally HUGE eye roll here::::


I know. Maybe I should give her the benefit of the doubt. She seriously could have just been brain storming and trying to help find a solution. So Hubster explained again that we had gone the route of the psychiatrist. That he'd put her on medication, and that when the medication didn't seem to be quite enough according to the psychiatrist that he upped the dose, and then she started getting physical. It was infrequent at first. She would only have full-blown meltdowns once a month. We figured it had to do with her hormones, but it wasn't long before she was having meltdowns more than once a week. By the time we realized the meds were the culprit in her uncontrolled rages, Hopper was getting physical with me 3 and 4 days out of the week, and each day consisted of 3 to 4 altercations with her trying to beat me up. She was on the medicine for 2 full years before we realized that it was the cause of the problems. So yeah. We tried a psychiatrist. And we tried drugs. 


Yeah. They didn't work.


It was obvious at the wedding the night before that they both felt that the girls are not disciplined, and if we only (fill in the blank) that they'd behave better in public. The thing is, they're two of the most well behaved kids you'd ever meet. I'm fairly certain the inlaws came to our house thinking the same thing when they visited our home when Hubster was taking care of the girls while I was gone. I think they may have left with a totally different understanding of their son's family and the life we live. 


Hubster wondered, if maybe, somewhere, they might get that we know how to handle the girls, that we might actually know what we're doing after all these years. After all, Hopper is weeks away from being 21. Only time will tell, if they took anything out of the conversation.


When Hubster told me everything that happened, I told him that he'd never been sexier to me. He shows me on a daily basis what we mean to him. We never lack for love. Ever. But for him to go so far as to explain things to his parents regardless of any sort of backlash, it speaks volumes about what he feels for us. 


I just hope that his parents finally see it. 

Another Christmas Miracle.

When Mom came down to help me with my surgery back on December 1, she planned on going home before Christmas. I jokingly told her that I'd be praying for snow, so she couldn't go home. Then, I promised her that I wouldn't tell her, "Yay! A Christmas Miracle!!" when the snow would keep her here. 

Well, the snow didn't keep her here the first week or two. The infection I got post-op did, though. And since it wasn't the snow that kept here here, I teased her that it was a Christmas Miracle. We've had a lot of Christmas Miracles in the last several months...

There's been the infection. And the snow. And logistics, because sometimes there are just scheduling conflicts with the person who is supposed to meet us to take Mom the rest of the way home, because meeting someone almost 350 miles away takes coordinating schedules. There's The Hubster's back injury. And then there's Mom's generous and sacrificing love and her wanting to stay and help me get as much as possible done while she's here. 


And so, we've experienced yet another Christmas Miracle on St. Patrick's Day. 


Mom is staying one more week to help me finish up as much as possible before The In-laws get here the week after next. They're driving through after visiting The Hubster's brother's family down in Florida. They want to stop by and see the progress we've made and to visit us. 


I'm stressing over it. Because although I know Mom and I have kicked butt getting things done since she's been here, and that Hubster and I kicked butt before that and got tons done, I know it's not going to be enough. Plus, this whole thing makes me feel like I'm back in high school and working really hard to study for a test I know I'm never going to pass, even though I always passed all my tests in high school with flying colors.

I feel, however unrealistic the feeling may be, that they're coming for an inspection. Like landlords. Like we owe it to them somehow to have our house in order. I mean, that's one of the major benefits of home ownership. You no longer have to answer to someone else about what color you paint the walls or how long the grass has gotten.


You answer to yourself. 


And that's what this journey has been about all along. It's been about us owning up to and processing exactly why we are where we are in this situation. And somehow, up until now, I haven't been stressing over it. I've been working on things. Processing things one at a time, and dealing with the what, why and how of my hoarding. Because it's my hoarding. It's my problem. And I'm proud of the progress I've made. I've done an amazing job. I'm not finished yet, but I know I will get there.


I am taking back ownership of the situation. Of my feelings. I refuse to be stressed. To be judged and graded as though I'm completing an assignment in high school for a very harsh teacher. If it's something that happens, then it's on those who do the judging. It's not on me. 


Mom and I will get as much done while she's here as possible. Not because there will be any sort of test. Not to prove anything to anybody else. We will accomplish as much as possible, because Mom is staying to help out of the goodness of her heart. And because not accomplishing anything, when that's why she is staying and giving us another Christmas Miracle, would be wasting that miracle.


And miracles should be appreciated and relished. 

Not wasted.