High fashion

I have a dirty little secret. For someone who is stressed out by clutter I have certain closets in my house that should send me screaming into the streets. Fortunately in my case clutter isn't quite so stressful if it can be hidden behind a closed door. Having said that, my bedroom closet has been in serious need of decluttering for some time now. I keep thinking I'll do it on a rainy day, but then it rains and I find more pressing things to do, like giving the cat a manicure, or teaching the dog how to flip a treat off it's nose and catch it in mid-air. Pretty much any task is preferable to cleaning out closets.

The other day while Bella was sleeping and Kylie and Phillip were watching TV downstairs I seized the moment. Great, I thought, I can take a few minutes and tackle my closet! Of course you know what happened. No sooner was I up to my eyeballs in shoes that no longer fit, (I'm tired of stuffing my now size 8 feet into my pre-childbearing size 7 shoes) and clothes that I haven't worn in years, when Kylie came in to see what I was doing. She was thrilled to see the pile of clothes and shoes on the floor and within minutes was deep into fashion show mode. I continued with my task, trying to ignore her as she pulled things out of the different piles I was making (keep this...throw this away...donate this...). Phillip, never being one to miss out on anything, quickly noticed Kylie's disappearance from the downstairs and joined her in hunting for treasure in the growing mountains of apparel.

By this time all I really wanted was to finish cleaning my closet, get rid of the stuff that wasn't going back in, and put the rest of the things back in some semblance of order. I was trying not to pay much attention to Kylie and Phillip, mainly because I was too busy grinding my teeth together and muttering to myself under my breath so I didn't snap at them to leave me alone - I tend to get rather goal-oriented when I get involved in a task like this. I wanted to finish and I knew all they were doing was making more work for me by messing up my piles. When I finally looked up from sorting through the rubble I had pulled from my closet this is what I saw...

Their beautiful grins and infectious giggles pierced my heart like an arrow, causing a lump to form in my throat and tears to spring to my eyes. Suddenly I was embarrassed and ashamed of myself for being upset with them. Someday much sooner than I would like I will have plenty of quiet time to clean my closets. There will be no laughing little blonde girl to stumble around in my high heels, no mischievous little blue eyed boy to pull my old "mommy jeans" up over his body. They will be busy with their friends, or doing homework, or just gone - to school, to a part-time job, to college, to their own lives. It happens in the blink of an eye. I should know that as well as anyone, I have seen it with my nephews, both of whom are leaving for college this week, and with my nieces. For a moment in time they are little and they are ours, but that moment is precious and fleeting.

As I swallowed the lump in my throat and wiped the tears from my eyes I reached for the camera. For the next few minutes I took pictures as Kylie and Phillip put on a fashion show that would have brought the mavens of haute-couture to their knees. I'm going to frame at least one of the pictures and display it prominently in our home, as a reminder to myself that closets don't matter - little people do.