The Holistic Approach I Take to Organizing Kids’ Spaces

When I first became a mom, I was convinced that with the right bins, a few label makers, and enough Montessori-inspired shelving, my house would practically organize itself. Spoiler: it didn’t. My toddler still dumped out every toy in search of the one missing dinosaur tail, and the carefully sorted baskets often became mismatched chaos within a week.

But over time—through trial, error, and a few very humbling afternoons spent crawling around looking for LEGO heads—I stopped trying to organize my kids’ spaces like a catalog. Instead, I started looking at the bigger picture. How were the rooms actually being used? Where was the tension showing up? What felt good, not just tidy?

That’s when my approach shifted from “organizing” to creating a rhythm—and that made everything click.

Now, when I work on our playroom or bedrooms or even the car seat pockets (yes, that’s a thing), I use a holistic lens: not just how things look or fit, but how they function, flow, and support the real people using them—tiny humans with big feelings, short arms, and constantly changing needs.

1. I Start With the Energy, Not the Stuff

Before I even touch a bin or think about rearranging furniture, I pause and notice how the space feels.

Is it chaotic? Underused? Does it spark creativity or crankiness? Are the kids avoiding it—or dragging everything out but not engaging with anything? These questions tell me far more than clutter ever could.

I’ve learned that disorganized energy often shows up before actual mess does. If the kids are overstimulated or melting down in certain corners, it’s usually because the space is overloaded, under-functioning, or just not meeting them where they’re at.

So I check in by asking:

• What is the room for (and is that clear to them)?
• Where does the day usually break down—mornings, bedtime, playtime?
• Is the space holding too much? Or too little of the right stuff?

From there, I can shift the physical layout with purpose. Sometimes, all it takes is removing one overflowing toy bin or clearing a windowsill to let light in.

2. I Design for Their Current Season, Not Their Ideal Future

I used to organize based on what I thought would be “good for them”—books they should be reading, puzzles they weren’t quite ready for, art supplies I didn’t trust them with yet. But all that “aspirational parenting” just created frustration—for them and me.

Now, I organize for the kid I have today. That means:

• Making favorite toys easily accessible (and rotating the rest into storage)
• Setting up clothes drawers they can open and manage themselves
• Using floor-level hooks and bins so they can clean up, even if they don’t always want to

We can always evolve the space later, but when I meet them where they are developmentally and emotionally, they engage more independently—and that’s the real win.

According to child development research from the University of Kansas, children are more likely to engage in extended play when materials are clearly visible, accessible, and offered in limited quantity—which reduces overwhelm and increases focus.

3. I Choose Zones Over Labels

Instead of trying to micromanage every block and action figure, I set up zones that serve a purpose: rest, play, create, get ready, unwind.

This takes the pressure off perfection and puts the focus on function. A “build zone” might include magnetic tiles, LEGOs, and a few open shelves for creations. A “calm zone” might have pillows, soft lighting, and favorite books.

What I’ve learned is that when kids know what a space is for, their behavior follows. It also makes clean-up easier. We’re not trying to alphabetize dinosaurs—we’re just putting things back in their zone.

Here’s how I break it down:

• Play Zone: Open floor space, minimal storage, current favorites
• Read/Calm Zone: Cozy corner, soft textures, a few rotating books
• Creative Zone: Table with access to age-appropriate supplies
• Get Ready Zone: Hooks, baskets, and mirrors at kid height

I use floor rugs, lighting, or color to define each zone—nothing fancy, just enough for their bodies to understand the shift in purpose.

4. I Don’t Aim for “Decluttered”—I Aim for Breathable

There’s a big difference between minimalism and intentional spaciousness—especially in a kid’s world. My goal isn’t to remove every toy or ban all plastic. It’s to make room for movement, choice, and rest.

Every few weeks, I do a gentle sweep—not a purge. I ask myself: Is this still being used? Does it add to their joy or just take up space? Then I quietly rotate, donate, or pack things away.

This process is less about organizing and more about editing. When there’s too much, nothing gets used. When there’s just enough, the space invites them in.

Tip: I keep a “transition basket” in the closet—a place for outgrown clothes, ignored toys, or art projects I’m not ready to toss but don’t want in rotation. It buys me time and keeps clutter from hanging around.

5. I Involve Them—but Only in Small, Clear Moments

The idea of “let them help organize” sounds lovely until someone dumps out every labeled basket to make a “boat.” Been there. So now I include my kids in organizing in small, bounded ways. Ten minutes after a snack. One drawer at a time. One decision at a time.

What works well for us:

• “Pick three toys to go on a break in the closet.”
• “Which pajamas go in the top drawer?”
• “Do you want your toothbrush on the left or right side of the sink bin?”

This builds ownership without turning every clean-up into a power struggle. Plus, they start to learn the why behind where things go—and that’s way more valuable than perfect folding.

Rhythm Reminders

• Don’t declutter when you’re tired. Tuck things in a “decide later” basket and come back fresh.
• Low shelves beat high bins. If they can see it, they’ll use it. If they can reach it, they might clean it.
• Put the cozy things in the quiet spaces. Texture changes behavior—pillows calm, soft lights invite pause.
• Don’t make it Instagram-ready. Make it intuitive. Kids don’t care about aesthetics—they care about access.
• Edit like a gardener, not a janitor. You’re not cleaning up a mess. You’re tending to what’s growing.

Space That Breathes, Kids Who Thrive

At the end of the day, my goal isn’t to have perfectly organized spaces. It’s to have rooms that breathe with my kids—spaces that flex, hold, and grow with us.

Because what I’ve learned (and keep learning) is that the most functional spaces are often the softest ones. They leave room for imagination, imperfection, and the occasional pile of blocks that stays out overnight because someone’s building a castle.

Organizing through a holistic lens means trusting that less control often brings more calm. That presence matters more than labels. And that a home that works with your family will always feel better than one that just looks tidy on a screen.