When I became a mother, I wasn’t just becoming the mother of a child, little did I know I was becoming the mother of everything that child had. Then choosing to be a homemaker full time, I took the responsibility of being the mother to EVERY SINGLE ITEM IN MY HOME. Plus, the garden and our animals. I was the sole care giver. I don’t claim minimalism as an ‘identity’ by any means, but maybe I am? Perhaps I’m just my own version of it.
Because what I really want is to not have any stuff so that I can simply feed mouths and enjoy time with my family.
I love having my stuff, I suppose, but I don’t like the maintenance it all requires.
Dusting off books that are waiting in line to be read. Linen clothes that have to be line dried. Toys to be sorted back into their proper home.
I already had my own load of stuff that I had to take care of and be accountable for. Now, it’s those times six.
Photos to put in frames then hung on display for only us to see.
Bills, content, emails, long distance relations.
Not to mention the coming busyness that’s in the future. Moving, karate, swim lessons, visiting family.
So. Much. STUFF.
Minimalism with small kids
People always told me it was the baby that would have all the stuff, but we are the ones that give them all that stuff. We take up our own space thinking it will ease the stress that motherhood and homemaking bring on.
When in actuality, it brings more stress because it’s something else to take care of.
I recently heard someone quote a Japanese minimalist. it was something to this effect, “you’re having a conversation with everything in your house”.
Oh my word, am I having a lot of conversations right now.
When I have less things, there are literally less things to worry about.
In saying that, I’ve become so very intentional about what we buy.
The mattress that’s sustainable, yet affordable to our family.
Toys or clothes for children. Second hand and goes with every other piece of clothing they own.
Even the food I’m bringing in now has become very intentional so that there’s less waste.
Minimalism isn’t just having 33 things or no car. It’s more about the intentions behind that label.
The immense value behind the space I’ve created in our home.
I constantly find myself fine tuning what we already have because the bringing in has been paired down about as far as it can right now.
I don’t buy clothes brand new. Rarely do we purchase brand new toys. Furniture is always secondhand.
Even food and meals, like I mentioned, have been simplified. I’ve come to learn what my family likes, and I stick to that.
Our hobbies don’t include buying. More spending time in nature and with friends.
The homemaker and minimalism
As a full time homemaker, minimalism has dramatically changed how I view my home. I want it to be beautiful and clean and fun and safe. But I don’t want to have piles of things I can’t overcome.
We’ve been having very serious conversations about moving lately, which shakes me to my core. I’m not sure why, but it does. Probably because I’ve become so comfortable here.
Anyway, when we talk about it, there would have to be serious downsizing because we would have to be in a smaller house. I’m completely fine with having a smaller house because in hindsight our current house is wonderful and I love it, but it’s very big.
The average american home size for a family of for is 2400 square feet. 2400?!? That is a mansion. Our’s is about 1800 sq ft and even THAT is far too big.
A simple split level where my father in law lives in the lower half. Our laundry is down there as is ‘an office’ where my husband went to school full time.
However, there is still so much empty space that needs filling.
But does it?
Why must I fill the empty space with stuff we either don’t use or don’t truly need?
What brainwashing has occurred in our society and in my own childhood that I feel such compelling force to put stuff in the empty corners of a home?
Most of it is unnecessary. We spend most of our time in the kitchen and living room or in the backyard. We DO NOT NEED a bigger space.
Being intentional about a new home and the atmosphere we create with it
I read a fantastic article on Substack about the richness that lies outside the bounds of capitalism and in the peripheries of what we think is wealth. You can read it over here, at Multi Layered by Vanja Vukelic artist behind Merakilabbe. I’ve recently began writing unadvertised and very vulnerable prose over there which you can also read more about here.
I digress, I don’t need to fill that space with stuff. Whether it is a big house or a small apartment.
Rather, I’d much prefer to have the space.
Space to think and feel and play and be.
I encourage everyone reading this, minimalist or maximalist, whatever you want to label yourself as, it doesn’t really matter, just confront yourself, rather your stuff, and see if it’s creating an atmosphere of peace or chaos.
Does any of that stuff even matter? Not to me, not really. My kids DO NOT CARE if there is a couch or bookshelves or art on the walls.
Because in the end us as parents is the most important practice. And that space that we have around our house can be seen as a reflection for the space we need to allow our children to be children.
For us to slow down in the midst of the absolute joyous chaos that is parenthood.
I don’t need to worry about the stuff. Because that’s all it is in the end. Another thing for me to maintain that takes away from the energy and time I could give my sons.
I don’t want to have conversations with 30,000 different items in my home.
I want to have a toddler conversation about whatever it is he wants to talk about.
Or to speak openly and vulnerably with my husband about our miscarriage. (More on that over at substack)
Everything else just stands in the way of those moments which I basque in the most. The times where I am so grateful to have these beautiful boys in my life. A loving husband who comes home and puts away the dishes. Thank you, Stuart you’re a gem in the gem state.
Minimalism as a concept has granted me the grace of unlearning a lot of materialism I once had. Not so much as an aesthetic, I’ve used the intentionality behind it to allow my mothering to become slow. Steady paced, gentle and rhythmic.
Motherhood seemed so challenging back then. Now it’s simple. It’s as simple as clearing space in my home.
I don’t need any thing, I need to simply show up, allow space, and give my time.
That’s it. It has all become so simple.
And it just keeps getting better.
In gratitude,
Tayler
