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5 Adar 5761 - February 28, 2001 | Mordecai Plaut, director Published Weekly
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Home and Family
I, personally, am always amazed at how, in a bowl of opened eggs, there is always room for one more, and one more, and one more, all sitting pretty... If only people could always be like that!

A-Where-Ness or The Where-With-All


by Leah Subar

"Mommy," said my eight year-old upon returning from cheder, "right I come home last?" [Ed. This is second- generation Anglo-Saxon `Hinglish' syntax.]

"Yes, you sure do."

"And right the girls come home before me?"

"Yes. That's right."

"And right they hang up their coats when they come home?"

No, I thought; I hang up their coats when they come home. "That's right," I said.

"So," he said, "when I come home, there's no more room for my coat!" He stood in front of the coat rack, flustered, holding his coat.

"Aw, darling," I said, "there's room for everyone's coat in our house. Here, let me see..." I confidently took his coat while he marched happily to his room to check his bottle cap collection, his sticker and stamp collection, battery collection, key and coin collection, and to change socks.

By the time he'd done all this and returned, I was still standing in front of the coat rack, wondering where in the world to put his coat.

The coat rack is not my home's only site of overflowing madness; I have at least two drawers of disorganization and several closets of confusion.

But I don't mind that some things in my home don't have a where. It's homey when sweaters and coats sit mushy and so squishy-like on the coat rack. When one or two spill to the floor, well, my coat rack runneth over.

As the saying goes: "Clutter is a bountiful sign of abundance."

All right, you caught me: There is no such saying. But there should be.

I know that there are many resourceful ways to create space; this I have learned from my husband. He has this knack for maneuvering eight frozen chickens into a freezer already packed with ice cube trays, frozen fish, chopped turkey, soy dogs, bread, Mr. Freezy's, sugar, flour, and leftover soup.

I, on the other hand, was never any good at physics. I have a hard time of it.

I have attended home management classes that help - but even when I do my homework, there are times when it looks as though I haven't.

I must add here an important point: While I don't know where everything in the house belongs, I know exactly where everything is.

My children, even the four and six year olds, have commented on how perfectly tidy so- and-so's home is. They tell me this, as they pat their little hands against their chests and roll their eyes to the top of their heads. They don't say it in a whiney, accusatory way; I trained them long ago to believe that the reason why so-and-so's house is so neat and tidy is because so-and-so's little ones all clean up after themselves. The younger ones, at least, believe me.

My eleven year-old has her doubts. A few years ago she told me that some mothers don't let their children play in the house.

"You know what I noticed?" she said. "Those people have really clean houses."

But that's not always the case. Many mothers who are exceptional at parenting are also exceptional at organization; it comes naturally.

Even those for whom organization does not come easy will probably find it possible to switch to the Olga Organizer Mode for certain occasions.

I used to host a class once a week and before the women arrived, I'd clean. But I'd always leave one teacup on the table and a small, neat pile of folded laundry, usually my newest and prettiest towels, on the couch, so that no one would know I had tried to get organized. They'd enter my home and say, "How neat and lovely -- and it all comes so naturally. Just look how she didn't even bother putting away the teacup or laundry."

Many other silly techniques can be acquired in time through one's own creativity. It's better to have the actual skills, but in times of emergency, it can be faked.

"Mommy," my son said when he saw me still standing by the coat rack, "why are you just standing there?"

"If you must know the truth," I said, "I also don't know where to put your coat."

He gave me a funny look and smiled. "That's okay," he said. "My coat doesn't mind." He sat down at the kitchen table and bit hungrily into a juicy hot dog. With a full mouth and a grin he added, "At least there's room for me!"

As long as there's a where for all the people -- there will be few complaints about nowhere for the coats!

 

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