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.