My middle child, upon returning home from our most recent family trip (aka, staying in a hotel with big bed, cable, and free breakfast!), remarked that he would rather live in a hotel than in our home because it is "old and broken".
My husband is very forgiving about most things but the clutter gets to him. Often.
Me, I love it. I love that we live in a 100+ year old house. It is our home. It has character. It has "good bones". It also has constant reminders of who we are...as individuals and as a family. I like that. I enjoy looking around and finding these reminders when I move through my daily life. It's like the angels plant them there just for me. I know, though, that they are also reminders for the little people who live here. It makes me smile when I think how they are growing up. Surrounded by these reminders. Steeped in this faith.
Would I like to have a clutter-free home? Yes, of course. Do I get depressed when I look around and see that there is so much "stuff" here? Sometimes. Most days, though, I just see it as our current state. I know, as the little people turn into medium and big people, the "stuff" will change and, for the most part, migrate to bedrooms, cars, and other private places. For now, I like it all out in the open. I like the transparency that is childhood. I like, for now, having a house that is like one of those boxes in which you keep your most prized treasures.