As a school girl, I always felt back-to-school time was like a second new year—a time to start fresh with all new supplies, clothes, hopes and excitement. The night before the first day, I would lay out my outfit, pack my satchel with everything in perfect order and set the alarm with time to spare. A week later it was back to reality, sleeping through the alarm, scrambling for a clean pair of jeans and grabbing my books and papers in hopes everything I needed was in there. Basically, the thrill was gone.

SMH is an acronym that stands for “shaking my head” and is usually used in texting or on social media. According to Urban Dictionary, SMH is used when someone finds something so stupid or shocking, no words can do it justice. Lately, I have encountered a few SMH moments, which I would like to get off my chest. Quite frankly, shaking my head is not working and I’m hoping words can clear the air once and for all.

I have lived in my home for 14 years. It’s the longest I’ve lived anywhere since I left home for college. The good news is I have the luxury of feeling settled in my home. The bad news is so does all of the stuff that has accumulated in 14 years.

This column is called Hissy Fit because it’s about things that bother me or make me mad. No one has made me mad. Well, they have, I’m just not writing about them…yet. What has me in a tizzy this month is stuff. To be exact: Too. Much. Stuff. I’m talking about clutter, piles, stashes, heaps and massive amounts of shhh…stuff. They are total energy suckers!

By the time you read this, my baby girl will have graduated from high school—a bittersweet phase of life for both of us. On her last day of school, she came home weepy. I thought it insightful, as she explained through tears, that she will never be able to live life like this again. Her words, “Mom, the reality of the last day of school is a quick cure for senioritis.”

For me, reality has already set in. The fact that this smiling child, who I still see as my precious angel, will be leaving in a mere 10 weeks and life will never be the same. It’s a moment most mothers dread and are never truly prepared for—me included.