What Netflix taught me about my kids’ bedrooms

By Malkie Gordon Hirsch Magence

I was in the middle of watching a Netflix series on the psychology behind hoarding when I was inspired to tackle a few rooms in my house.

As I watched with a mixture of fascination and horror at people who look completely ordinary on the outside, but secretly harbored mountains of clutter in their homes, it occurred to me that I, too, am surrounded by hoarders.

We just call them our children.

I spent the weekend purging as much as I could, with the scariest moments happening inside my children’s rooms. And sure, you can argue that I should have tackled this long before the day they were due to arrive, but where’s the thrill in that? What’s better for motivation than a looming deadline breathing down your neck as you attempt to declutter an unkempt room before they return with yet another haul of random treasures collected over the summer?

Let’s just say—I like to live on the edge.

I started small: the top of the dresser, where a graveyard of forgotten treasures greeted me. Accessories from a Purim costume from years past, a stack of textbooks that have never been opened, an inordinate number of sports cards sealed in hard plastic sleeves. (“Our ticket out of middle-classhood,” I whispered to myself as I slid them into a drawer for safekeeping.)

There was an incomplete deck of cards, mysterious wires belonging to long-forgotten gadgets (but dangerous to toss, just in case), plastic medals from various leagues, and a framed picture declaring that bagels equal happiness. Ten pairs of sneakers lined the wall, half of which were too small, but impossible to part with. Security sneakers, if you will.

And that was just one room. I had four more to go.

I moved quickly, drawer by drawer, closet by closet, knowing full well what would happen when my kids returned home. They would be momentarily stunned, then impressed by the clean slate they were starting the year with, and then, in record time, they would refill every inch of clean space with new clutter, each item deemed essential to their survival.

For now, I patted myself on the back as I walked downstairs, glanced at the pristine bedrooms, and admired the rare sight of an uncluttered rug. I knew it wouldn’t last more than a few days.

But I also knew this: one day, I’ll pass these rooms and they will be empty. No sneakers in piles. No medals draped over a lamp. No dresser stacked with wires and mystery collections. Just silence and memories.

And when that day comes, I’ll probably miss the mess. 

Malkie Gordon Hirsch Magence is a native of the Five Towns community, a mom of 5, a writer, and a social media influencer.