We are cleaning.  A lot.  And by a lot I mean EPIC sized cleaning.  Legendary cleaning.  Housewives all over America will speak my name with hushed, reverent tones after word gets out of what’s happening over here at bunkersdown.

You see, a quaint, lovely little farmhouse sitting on two acres has debuted on the housing market and I want it, with the white hot intensity of a thousand suns.  So we are taking the plunge.  With some luck, incredible amounts of work, a garage sale and a storage unit, our house will be for sale in a week or two.  Or, perhaps more realistically, three.

The first step in my action plan is to get rid of the clutter.  Because if my many hours of watching HGTV have taught me anything, it’s that an uncluttered and depersonalized house will sell quicker and make real estate people happy.  And I’m all about the happy.

So yesterday, I ventured into the girls’ room and with a little bribery and some highly skilled negotiations we were able to cut the clutter in half.  I would just like to say for the record that the UN will probably be hiring me for my negotiation skills sometime soon.  Several minutes were spent yesterday in deliberations over stuffed animals with an uncooperative 8 year old.  In fact, yesterday may go down as The Plush Summit of 2011.

"You can have this stuffed animal when you pry it from my cold, dead hands."

I would also like to interject at this point that I’m pretty sure Happy Meal toys reproduce, because I don’t remember feeding my children hundreds of Happy Meals.

Today, I am tackling my closet.  I’ve got the eye of the tiger going on here people, and believe me when I say, I’m not backing down.  Selling your house is not for the sentimental and soft at heart.  You have to be ruthless…with yourself mostly.  I went through two crates of baby clothes I’ve been saving ever since I had babies and managed to put 2/3 of it in the garage sale pile, along with my old maternity clothes.  Because, frankly, that ship has sailed, friends.

The garage sell pile after only 1 1/2 rooms.

Later today I’ve scheduled time to go through the 11 inch (I know it’s that tall because I measured it) pile of old art and school work my children have produced over the last four years.  I’m channeling my inner Scrooge, folks.  By hook or by crook (and possibly with the help of some valium) I’m going to get that pile down to three inches.  If it kills me.

The upside to all this purging, is that even if we don’t sell this house or buy that house, at least I know I will never be on Hoarders.  It’s actually a somewhat comforting thought.