Not Sharing My Toys

I have recently realized that shouldering my children with my toys as well as theirs devalues all of them.
Growing up, I had plenty of toys. I don't think I had too many, but some might argue that. They all fit neatly in my room and closet. I played with them all. Many were so special that I saved them. I boxed them and put them in the attic. As a child, I wanted my future children to be able to play with my special toys. After Adam and I were married, we reclaimed all my childhood treasures from my parents' attic and they sat on bookshelves or remained in boxes in our attic.
Now we have children. The imaginary daughter I saved all my Barbies for is real.  The imaginary son that would love a teddy bear in camouflage is asleep in his bed right now.

Some of my Cabbage Patch Dolls

I saved my treasured childhood possessions, assuming they would be treasured childhood possessions of the next generation. What I didn't foresee was the sheer volume of possessions this generation has.
Adam and I buy the kids toys at Christmas and at birthdays. On vacation, we get them a souvenir or two. Otherwise, we pay for their needs, and they use their allowance for toys. Of course there is also an influx from Grandma, but really not too much.
However, when you add up the toys from Christmas, birthdays, Grandma, and allowance spending, you have quite a multitude of toys. Add to that my treasured dolls, bears, and books and games and it's just too much.
After Christmas, we cleaned out Claire's room.  We removed everything from her room except for her bed.  All books, all toys, and all clothes were sorted into piles of garage sale, Goodwill, and keep.  We threw away trash and immediately had three full bags of paper and toy parts.  As we weighed the value of each object, I realized that because she has so many objects, they all have the same value.  It's like she can't see the trees for the forest.  I also realized that as sweet as she is, she pretended that all my old toys were special to her. They are, but all the toys are special and mine are no different.  She was drowning in toys and I was adding to the mix instead of helping her value each item.  I realized that shouldering her with the responsibility of valuing and caring for my toys was selfish in a way.  Assuming my five Cabbage Patch kids would be prized possessions also assumed she wouldn't have anything special of her own or her own scale to weigh value.
Both Adam and I come from resourceful families.  His mother and I trade coupons regularly.  My grandmother is famous for finding uses for everything, even restaurant napkins. Adam and I inherited a bit of that ourselves and have passed it on to our children. Boxes from Costco become cars, pirate ships, or dog houses. Scrap paper becomes signs, scripts, books, and spyglasses.
Resourcefulness plus toys they received plus toys I saved is just too much.  We spent hours sorting through everything, from a tiny Barbie shoe to a giant 60" teddy bear.  I reclaimed all my old toys to free Claire up to take care of her toys and not have to worry about mine.
Then I realized that giving Claire my things was the same thing others have done to me and that I have done to myself. Elderly friends have given me plates and books. I treasure them all because they are daily reminders of loved ones.  When my grandfather moved to an assisted living facility, I helped clean out his house and brought home trunk-loads of dishes, books, clothes, and other housewares I didn't even know existed. It's as if I believed my love for them could be conveyed through keeping their possessions.  I kept all my grandmother's unfinished crafts. I don't know how to quilt, but I have parts for at least three quilts.
Understanding Claire's position helped me understand my own more. It also helped me let go of even more things. So now I'm sifting and valuing my possessions, both those that originated with me and those that represent lost loved ones.  I'm trying to sift through the forest to find the truly valuable trees.

Letting Go

In the 1970s my mother sold Avon.  I have two of her suitcases and we use them for travelling.  I love the history of this bag, the bright, unique colors, and the size that's just perfect for an overnight stay.

This week I noticed that the zipper has torn.  It's possible I could find somehow to repair it, but it would be very difficult.  I'm going to have to let it go.

Our home is full; over full of memories and items that hold them.  I tend to forget, so I love having visual reminders of people and places in the past.  The problem is that the longer I live, the more memories and less space we have.

I could blame Adam and his own tendency to keep anything that has sentimental value, but frankly, I'm just as bad, if not worse.

Here's another example:

This spiral belonged to my maternal great-grandmother.  Inside are craft ideas from the 1950s and 1960s.  I've had this at least 10 years and have never even flipped through it all, much less made any of the crafts.  Just a minute ago I had a moment of silence for my great grandmother and placed this reverently in the recycling bin.

Here are Paul's "skeleton pants" with a skull on the back pocket.  He loves those pants, but the snap is now broken and the waist can't go around his waist.  They are too small, broken, and have holes in both knees.  I know that no one will ever wear them again.  We won't keep them and then thank ourselves later for keeping these broken pants.  Yet I struggle with letting them go.  They are so small and he is growing bigger every day.

Now that our floors are finished, we can start putting the house back together.  Our contractor mentioned to me that it looked like we had five houses worth of stuff in our one house.  In a way, he's right.  When my great grandmother passed away, we obtained some of her stuff.  A friend at church gave some of his stuff to us before he passed away.  I was in charge of my grandfather's estate sale when he moved to a retirement home, so of course I took lots of his stuff home as well.  Another dear elderly friend gave us stuff.  There's stuff from Adam's godparents, stuff from garage sales, and stuff that originated with us.  Every time Claire makes a craft, she insists that I keep it as a treasured possession, even the Mason jar with a feather glued in it.

We are living in a house of memories and we are getting buried alive.  So this week I have devoted my free time to learning to let go.  If there is value in every object, there isn't value in any of them.

My Awesome Sisters-in-Law and Niece

These are my sister-in-laws. That's Amanda on the left and Angie on the right. Today for the best birthday present ever, they came and cleaned our house. All of it. It was amazing.

Adam took the kids to a coin show so they weren't underfoot. Amanda and Angie and our niece Morgan, got busy. You wouldn't recognize my house, so I took pictures. I also want to memorialize the event before the kids get home.

Here's a bookshelf with only vertical books! There are no papers or piles of paperbacks! Amazing!

They even organized the pool towels! Incredible!

Look! This is Paul's room! There are books and boots, all in the right place! Unbelievable!

Here's the kids bathroom! No toys or towels underfoot! Breath-taking!

Here's Claire's bookshelf! I'm speechless!

This is Claire's room. That brown stuff on the floor is carpet! There's a bedspread on her bed! There are stuffed animals stacked neatly!

I took more pictures, but I didn't want to rub it in how awesome my house looks. No, Adam doesn't have a brother, but Amanda's single! I am humbled and exhausted. Happy birthday to me! (And it's not even my birthday until Wednesday!) Best birthday present EVER!