Evolution of the Home by Lindsay Moses

February 19, 2013

I love our apartment. I love the paint colors I chose for the walls, I love the guaranteed sunlight around noon each day and the sunset views. I love that if I stand on my balcony and flash the overhead light, my best friend can spot me from a few blocks away. And thanks to our weed smoking neighbors, I can even get a little high, simply standing in the hall, waiting for the elevator.

Even before Ryder was born, I started to question the amount of space we had to work with. Trying to find a new home for all the stuff we stored in the extra bedroom was a daunting task. For someone with a touch of OCD, this actually felt impossible. Messiness drives me nuts and clutter drives me insane.

I remember waking up one morning, a few weeks after we brought Ryder home and feeling a sense of panic. Like the apartment was closing in on me and soon, we would be the feature story on an episode of Hoarders. To my left was that crazy Mamaroo space age swing, to my right was a vibrating monkey chair and on my pillow, was a pee pee teepee (an obvious necessity to anyone with a baby boy at home). The kitchen was decorated with Dr. Brown bottle components, breast pumping paraphernalia, and boob leaking pads (which clearly should have at least been in the bathroom for god’s sake). Ryder’s room of course was the Mecca of the clutter. Even more “stuff” littering the floor, draping the glider and busting out of the closet. On some days, if Ryder isn’t making any noise, it takes me a few seconds to locate him! What happened to the speech I gave my husband pre baby about being as minimalistic as possible?

So now, the question arises…how long can we really stick it out in what was once my perfect apartment? I have always protested suburban life but now, the prospect of extra space is tempting. But how could I possibly say farewell to those beautiful high rise views, nosy doormen and the methadone clinic just around the corner? Certainly I would miss the entertainment every morning those “patients” provide en route to work.

For now, we have no choice but to stay put. So in the meantime, I will continue to exhaust all our savings at the Container Store; my attempt to keep the place neat and my sanity intact!

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