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.

Cleaning up, Cleaning Out

My house is a constant explosion of toys, books, and laundry. Dirty laundry is confined to laundry baskets, and dirty dishes usually are confined to the sink, so my house isn't as dirty as it is cluttered.
I'm always worried about it. I have a hard time "living in the now" when there's always a load of dishes or clothes to wash, toys to pick up, a meal to cook, errands to run, etc. I know my kids are growing up faster than I can keep up with them, but I have so much guilt about keeping up with dishes/laundry/cooking/shopping/correspondence/visiting old folks, I have a hard time focusing on any one thing.
Last week I decided to focus on cleaning, and maybe that would make me feel better.
Claire has about 1,000 books. Some people are always buying their kids toys, but I always buy mine books. We have baskets of books all over the house to encourage reading. Both kids love reading, but Claire had so many books that we couldn't read them all. I sat on her floor for several hours and went through each book and toy. We kept everything she wanted and immediately boxed everything she didn't.
The books we took to Half Price Books. Claire proudly sold them back and recieved $10 in exchange. I told her she could purchase two books with her money and put the rest in her bank. I was touched when she decided one of her books would be for Paul. So she got to purchase two books, had $2 left over, and put that in her bank. I got to condense her library into one bookcase. No more baskets of books to drive me nuts.
With her toys, we took them to Goodwill. I explained to her that some children don't have any toys and we'll give them to Goodwill and they will give them to the kids that need them. She was totally fine with this. We turned in two bags of toys and condensed all the rest into her toy boxes and kitchen. She was happy to give away some of her toys, and I felt like a load had been lifted off of me. It's been a week now and her room is still neat. She hasn't mourned the loss of any of her toys or books.
I realized that I was more attached to all her "stuff" than she was. Kids get over stuff pretty easily. I found that out again when she lost her favorite stuffed dog at Albertson's on Friday. I advised her not to bring it in the store in case she lost it, but left the decision up to her. The dog did get lost, either because of her or because Paul pitched it overboard; I'm not sure. But I was sad about it; almost crying when I realized it was gone. Claire didn't shed a tear or throw a fit. Instead, she requested that I print off a picture on the computer so she could play with a new dog. I found a picture of Clifford, printed it out, and she put it on a leash. She feeds that piece of paper and drags it around the house on a real dog leash.
It's amazing what my kids teach me on a daily basis. Let go of "stuff." Have fun with what you've got.

Things I've Done Wrong

Many think I am the perfect parent. As calm, collected, and pristine as I may seem, it's not true. (Laughing yet?) I do the best I can, but I've screwed up, too. Try to avoid these errors with your own kids.

1. Saying "yes" to crap.
At stores, Claire is constantly begging for food, toys, etc. I tell her "No. No. No. I'm sorry, no." I don't give into her every whim, but occasionally, if the toy/snack/piece of crap is affordable and she's been stellar, I say "yes." But between what I buy and what she receives from others, our house is overflowing with toys. I was thinking yesterday that I need to teach Claire about value. She occasionally picks up her toys, but usually I go behind her and do it. So if I only allow bigger toys/toys with less parts in our house, I might have a lot less to pick up. I'm not sure this theory will work.

2. Saying "The trash man's going to get you!"
When Claire was two, way before Paul was born, I getting Claire dressed one morning when the trash man drove down our street. Obviously the truck has lots of beeps, buzzes, and mechanical sounds. Claire asked what the noise was, and I told her, "It's the trash man. He's going to come get you!" at which point I tickled her and we played. I did this one time and to this day she is afraid of the trashman.

3. Mexicom
One day I thought I'd be a smart mom and teach Claire that a stop sign is a hexagon. We drove around that morning and pointed them out. Claire couldn't pronounce "hexagon," and called them "mexicoms." It wasn't until that evening when I bragged to Adam about Claire's new knowledge that he told me a stop sign is actually an octagon. I'm still trying to correct that, and Claire still says, "No, it's a mexicom."