More Toys than Hamleys

Day 12 - Sunday

Today, while the sister is still away, I venture into the girls bedroom. They share a room, unfortunately they don't share toys so everything is in duplicate.

Its an average size room for a two bed terrace council home. Around 8' by 9' at a guess. It feels tiny with the bunk beds, two wardrobes, a storage box system, a bookshelf, and doors into a built in cupboard and the airing cupboard. That's not including the mountain of cuddly toys, the countless (naked) Barbie and Monster High dolls, the clothes and dressing up outfits and general 'toys' for lack of any of words to describe what was contained within this room.

Both bunk beds are full of things and there is barely any floor space. I'm really not sure where to start.

Eventually I make a start on the lower bunk. if I can clear this then I've got space to sort out things on the floor.

There's cuddly toys from every local tourist attraction: farms, soft play areas, theme parks, holiday parks. I fill a bin bag with smaller toys and put the big teddies (Hello Kitty, dogs, cats, etc etc) to one end of the bed. Stacks of books into a big sports bag.  I have about two thirds of the bed clear. I make my way around the room trying to put things into categories: clothes, dressing up outfits, puzzles, dolls clothes, stationary.

Three hours later and three bin bags of rubbish later I'm exhausted and worry about G looking after the girls on his own. I look around the room before leaving and feel despondent. It doesn't look as though I have been there are at, there's still so much to do. But my back hurts, my head hurts and I cant bring myself to do anymore.

Under the Stairs

Day 11 -Saturday

Although I'd like to believe that my sister has worked hard every waking moment over the last week to clear & clean the house, I know this is not going to be true as G, his mum & I turn up for another round with the house. This time is different though as she's not here. She decided she would go away for the weekend as she had planned some time ago. The thought of changing her plans to focus on her home & getting her children back obviously doesn't occur to her!

So we enter & Gs mum comments on the improvement of the entrance. I snatch away the praise given to my sister & confirm it was me that instigated this. To my disappointment though there are more pizza leaflets left on the floor and I try to convince myself they only arrived this morning.

I want to make a start in the girls bedroom, but G insists we do under the stairs as this will hopefully create more storage space for other things. I don't disagree as our relationship is becoming strained and I don't want to argue. I'm grateful for his and his mums help

He starts pulling out all the boxes (many), old vacuums (2) the abundance of carrier bags & other indescribable items that get passed to his mum for first triage (obvious rubbish or perhaps keep). I get passed to the 'perhaps keep' things to go through in the garden.

More out of date food in the original bag they were bought in over a year ago. So much arts & crafts material Hobbycraft would feel threatened if she set up shop. More shoes (I knew there would be!)

Three hours later we get there. Rubbish gone and keep things back neatly packed in boxes.

I say the rubbish has gone when in fact it's actually now piling up in the garden. It's taking over the garden and space is becoming limited. The SW said they would provide a skip, but this hasn't happened yet.

As we are finishing up & thinking of moving upstairs to the girls bedroom, my sisters 'friend' turns up to feed the Guinea Pigs (I don't think I've mentioned these yet, but is for another time).

From the moment she walks in the door she talks.... & talks.....words tumbling out her mouth.... Mostly along the lines of how awful the house is, how my sister keeps buying too much stuff, she can't say no to the girls, she's lazy, she's got a problem, she feels sorry for the girls, her children won't come her.

For goodness sake please SHUT UP!  Of course I don't say this, instead hurrying with the last bits and trying to make an excuse for us to leave.

Considering this woman is suppose to be my sisters friend, she spends a lot of time slagging her off and it becomes apparent that she doesn't know the girls aren't currently living here. I don't enlighten her. It's not place to.

After nearly 45 minutes I make our excuses & we leave. The friend says she will stay & do some sorting in the lounge. G thinks she will take stuff for herself. I hope so!

We leave feeling annoyed that we could've good more done had the friend not turned up, but I couldn't bear to stay with her around so that's that.

Handbags & Shoes

Day 5 - Sunday

Half the day is wasted (in my opinion) by my sister taking the girls to church and then a bit of shopping. More magazines and Kinder eggs arrive at my house when she eventually turns up at 1.30pm. Another half an hour to get her out the door and I tell her I'm coming round soon to do some more sorting out.

She answers the door with clothes in her hand saying she's 'folding' them. As the TV is on I suspect she's actually sat on her arse doing very little! So as the SW is coming round on Tuesday I suggest we need to clear the entrance space around the door to create an immediate impact of less clutter.

She clears the walkway through the to the kitchen while throw out the mounds of pizza leaflets, election flyers and unopened post. I gave a sneaky peak at some of it and overdue bills and demand letters frighten me. The debt she must be getting into to pay for all these things is heart-breaking for me. She has nothing of any value to show for the inheritance our Dad left her.

Next is the bags. 10 of them piled on top of each other all full of 'things'. We go through them one by one. This one is for work, this one weekends, this for taking the girls out, this one for taking the girls out when they were babies - hold on, what??!! A reminder here, the girls are now 7 and 10. They don't need baby wipes, nappies, the health visitor book or dummies (soothers, pacifiers or whatever you want to call them). My sister is getting emotional at this point. She can't bear the idea of throwing away their baby bits. But I'm tough, it must go and go it does! I congratulate her, like a small child, for making the right decision. The bags are reduced from 10 to 5. I've done my best

Now for the shoes.... Trainers, sandals, walking boots, wellies, tap dancing shoes, ballet shoes, more trainers....a mix of hers and the girls. I do better with these, most get thrown out yippee! Just a few pairs left which go back on the shoe rack. I'm hugely aware there's many more shoes throughout the house, but for now a small victory!

The entrance and hallway now look clear and clutter free. How long for I have no idea.

The remaining bags & shoes

The Kitchen

Day 4 Saturday

Along with my partner G and his mum we head over to the sister’s house. It occurred to me that I hadn't been here for over a year. I've always known it was bad but after the last time I thought maybe it wasn't too bad. I was happy not knowing the truth, happy in my ignorance. So the door opens and we step inside. I'm overwhelmed by the task ahead of us.

The mountains of 'stuff', clothes, toys, papers, food, wrappers, juice bottles, shoes, bags and just plain rubbish. It's the worst I've ever known it. As I look into the lounge, I can't make out the sofa, the table and chairs, the computer, any specific toys. It's all just one blur of belongings all mixed up with rubbish. It reminds me of the TV shows and I begin to wish a an army of people would come in a make it all disappear but I know that's not going to happen.

G's mum is gobsmacked. It's a far cry from her own immaculate home, but she doesn't say anything horrible. She accepts and understands why she's here. G suggests we start with the kitchen and it takes a couple of hours to remove everything into the garden. I lost count of the plastic plates and bowls in a variety of different characters: princesses, fairies, Dora, Fifi, Winnie the Pooh, Ben and Holly, Frozen and a whole lot more.

Plastic cutlery, in an assortment of characters as above and some free from magazines. Why do baby magazines do that? If people can afford those overpriced mags in the first place they can afford to buy some nice cutlery without having to rely on the giveaways. I'll come back to magazines. That's a whole different blog!

Plastic tubs and pots, some with lids, some with mould!

Out of date food, some by a few months, some by a few years (2015, 2014,2013 and 2012)

G fixes the oven door and G's mum cleans the oven inside and out. I'm outside with the sister trying to convince her that everything in the garden cannot go back in the kitchen. There just isn't space.

We throw out 10 bin bags of rubbish and manage to put back everything she wants to keep.

After 6 hours we leave exhausted and dejected. And no word of thanks from the sister.

A clear work surface finally!

The Call

Wednesday 11th May

Whilst at work I get a text from the sister:

Social services might phone you

Dread fills my body. I already know what this is about. Just a few minutes later I get the call. 

Only this time it's much worse. The social worker tells me the house is so dangerous the children cannot stay there. "Can they stay with you?" She asks me. "What if I say no?" I reply. They will look for a foster placement with no guarantee they can stay together. 

Part of me knows this is unlikely. I've worked in this environment & my friend is a children's service social worker. There's hoops the SW has to jump through in order to remove a child, but I can't bring myself to say No 

The SW arranges to visit my house later in the day & I'm straight on the phone to my partner, G who happens to have the day off. 

Can you move the old mattress from the spare room (put it in the shed not the garden- that will just look tacky!!)

Clean the kitchen-load the dishwasher, wipe the table, sweep the floor

He then tells me he has an appointment in the afternoon & can't do all things I need doing. 

After a mild panic, I manage to leave work a bit earlier to head home & tidy up. In an hour I've cleaned the bathroom, tidied the lounge, cleared the spare room & made the place smell nice to give the impression of domestic goddess & a homely home! 

I obviously gain approval, although was a bit annoyed she didn't check out the bathroom (I'd been on my knees washing the floor!) 

And that evening they turn up at my house & my peaceful life is turned upside down. 

The History

Due to the state of her house, my sister has gone through the Child Protection process three times previously. I go round have a clear out and social workers leave her alone. Apart from this 'issue' she is a good mum. The girls have everything they want and they do much more! Actually that's part of the problem! She is unable to say no when they want things and as an amateur psychologist she seems to have some kind of guilt that they just don't have enough and by buying more things this will show how much she loves them.

In context their dad is married to someone else and has no real contact with them.

I've tried my best to convince the sister to stop buying things, to throw things out, to sell old toys and clothes, but it falls on deaf ears and she carries on regardless. She's had appointments with the mental health team but she either can't be bothered to go or really doesn't think there's an issue. The place is just 'a little messy'. 

And so we reach the current situation....