‘The world is divided into two types of people - those who are organised and those who are not’

The world is typically divided into two main types of people: those who are organised and systematic, with well-laid-out plans and clear direction in every aspect of life – the sort of people who put their pet’s worm tablet due dates into their Google calendars. And those who live in a constant state of disorganisation.

I, it would seem, am the latter.

To varying degrees we all fall into one of those categories. Though there are some who are a tad delusional about their place in world, believing themselves to be more organised than they actually are. The sort who do things like pointing to monthly planners while in a shop and saying ‘Jen we should get one of those’, having somehow missed the fact that there’s already a magnetic monthly planner carefully placed on the side of the fridge, where it has sat, blank, for most of 2023. Those sort of people, typically live with the extreme end of disorganised types, so it’s a measuring bar set low, in fairness.

I am the parent who sits across from the teachers at parent-teacher meetings and barely flinches at the gentle suggestion that some child or other could work on their organisational skills. “Sure they didn’t lick it off the stones,” I laugh in reply, aware the teacher thinks I’m joking, but internally registering that as me having given them the heads-up.

‘A primary school teacher shook a child in class, according to my granddaughter. What should I do?’

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It is my own Achilles’ heel on social media. Photos of others looking fabulous, fresh and 20 years younger than they are, claiming to have shed two stone in a week doesn’t take a fizz out of me. Perfectly spotless rooms don’t bother me – I suspect there’s likely a gigantic pile of shoes, toys and random pieces of half-eaten snacks whooshed into a corner out of shot. Happy families sharing perfect summer moments with ever-smiling children dressed in perfectly co-ordinated outfits don’t fool me either – I know the threats, bribery and numerous attempts that go into capturing one shareable moment.

[ Government urged to ‘completely rethink’ focus of childcare from needs of adults to children ]

[ It’s a great time to eliminate some of the kids’ accumulated clutter ]

But a person posting that they’ve school books and pencils labelled, Christmas shopping started, tax returns done or the socks all paired and I’m ready to block and report.

And so it came to pass one rainy summer day last week, triggered by a few organised people posting their achievements on Instagram, that I decided to Marie Kondo the house. If it didn’t bring me joy, it was being binned or given away. This would bring me some order, I decided. I will know where everything is afterwards, I decided. It will ultimately save me time, I decided. It will help my children to be organised, I decided. And it will all be worth it in the end, I decided.

Until a few hours into my rage cleaning, when it appeared it would be none of those things, but rather, instead, a distracting trip down memory lane as I convinced myself not to part with things that I really needed to part with. I lost both the motivation and the will to live, with a room now in a far greater state of chaos than it was beforehand.

Because what am I supposed to do with their artwork? So much artwork. I’m not sure what some of it is to be honest, but that’s not the point. And there are cards, so many cards, addressed “to mum” and signed lovingly by a child using both his first name and surname, in case I wasn’t sure like.

And clothes, so many memories tied up in clothes, recently grown out of by a younger child, but sometimes having been worn by an older sibling too. How can I give them away? “They brought me joy,” I justified to myself.

[ ‘If we don’t control clutter, it will control us’: Five steps to a clutter-free home ]

[ How to use hidden doors to transform ordinary rooms in your home ]

The pile of crap on the bed soon became a pile of crap on the floor on account of the whole me having lost the will to live and finish sorting the room before the kids’ bedtime. It was the next day before I finished. Granted the drawers and wardrobes were a sight to behold. And I’m sure my kids will maintain its current state of perfectly folded, individually separated and immaculately organised items of clothing – because kids are great like that.

I felt invigorated, I think, or at least inspired enough to continue with operation organisation and started filling out the blank monthly planner on the side of the fridge. “This way we’ll all know what September holds,” I thought.

The days filled up quickly and the true state of the month became apparent. Nothing new or unexpected but, as I scribbled in plans, a mild sense of being overwhelmed began to take hold. “Jaysus,” I thought, “that’s an awful lot on in the one month.” I rubbed it all out.

You should stick to what you’re good at.

And I’m good at being disorganised.