Stuff and Nonsense and More Stuff

Our six-month lease in this house runs out June 20th. Our landlady (who currently lives in Virginia) called us to ask what our thoughts were about moving, etc. During this conversation, it came out that it behooves both her family and ours for us to continue with a month-to-month lease, and she will put the house back on the market.
    
Back on the market. Which she did on June 1st.
   
The Realtor showed the house Friday.
   
I don't know if the magnitude of those words comes through strongly enough. We have six kids, two cats, and a dog, and the house we live in was open for others to come in, turn things over, open things, and generally micro-inspect.
   
Sooooo . . . obviously, a massive de-cluttering took place this week. It happened at a very convenient time, as we opted to run a church rummage sale at the local "Clancy Days" festival. We filled two vans with . . . well, honestly . . . junk. And then people came by our church table and paid money for our junk. And then, an hour before we left, we started giving away our junk. And then we wrestled confiscated junk from the clutches of our children, and we finally took the remains of our junk and left it at Goodwill. (And, I'd like to add, by the time we got to Goodwill, the girls were all fighting loudly over who got to zip up The Quiet Book before we donated it. Hmm.)
   
Our house feels SO. GOOD.
  
I KNOW that kids are happier with less . . . stuffage. I know it, but things add up and get out of hand and then I forget that a lot of the frustration and mayhem and confusion is compounded by all the STUFF that I move out of the way and dust (or need to dust) and climb under or over to get to whatever I'm after.
    
It's just STUFF. We were pretty ruthless. We said "Goodbye" to three chairs (including a papasan -- the dumbest idea ever for chic seating), the pasta machine (because really, twice a year is not worth the real estate it's taking up in the kitchen), the juicer (same problem), a cordless drill, a pellet gun, a sit-and-stand stroller, a coffee table, some clothing and shoes, and so many kids books and toys -- some of which had never been opened ("oooh, a fire-and-ice set, won't they love that?"). Obviously I'm forgetting things, because what we had took up the back of our 12-seater van and all of the minivan.
   
See what I mean? I can't even remember what it was that we held so dear that we carried it all the way from Virginia to here.
    
I want to hold on to this Not Holding On.
   
Because some things you just need to let go of, so you can enjoy other things.
  
Things like an orange lollipop and two pairs of brown eyes.