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A messy situation

It’s been two weeks since I posted? Really? How did that happen? Oh, yeah:

  • My patience was buried in the kids’ bedroom under their shared space.
  • My sanity was buried under Stink’s desk.
  • And somewhere along the line I permanently lost my brain among toys and games that had missing pieces and migraines from having their parts shoved so hard into shelving they couldn’t be wrenched out with crow bar.

Thank God Farmer Stacey — a dear friend I met from my Baby Center writing days because, you know, I was such and expert in parenting — gave me some super helpful advice in dealing with kids and their stuff. She promised it would make my life, and theirs, so much smoother. Here are some excerpts from our conversation:

Day 1

Me: You are raising 5 boys under 14 in a 100-square-foot house. You seem more calm than I am. What’s your secret?
Farmer Stacey: We are minimalists.
Me: Sounds good to me, but how do you do it?
Farmer Stacey: You need only tell them three words.
Me: I Love You?
Farmer Stacey: Throw It Out.
Me: But their three words will be, “But I can’t?”
Farmer Stacey: And your three words will be “Then I will.”
Me: Huh.

Day 2

Me: I don’t want my kids to be consumer L.A. kids. I pride myself on my