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.

My Magnolia Tree and Faith

I have always loved Magnolia trees.  I love their scent, I love their flowers, I love the strength of their leaves. 

 To me, a tree is always a metaphor.  A tree with a strong trunk represents inner strength.  A tree that has survived a drought represents perseverance.  A tree's roots grow deeper as the tree ages, similar to my own discovery of my spiritual depths.  Depending on the season of my life, I feel like a sapling or a California Redwood.  I can be blown over with a gust of wind or withstand anything thrown at me.

Last Thanksgiving we went to Adam's godparents' house in Texarkana to celebrate the holiday.  Kaa and I spent an afternoon gathering pine cones and magnolia cones to create a beautiful wreath for our front door.  The kids and I asked what would happen if we planted one of the magnolia cones.  She supposed it would grow into a tree but wasn't sure.  As an experiment, I saved one and planted it in my kitchen window.  

Last December the pot was just a pot of dirt with something inside.  I faithfully watered it and watched little green sprouts come up.  I was ecstatic until I realized that the little green sprouts were actually weeds.  I yanked the weeds up but held onto my faith and waited for a tree.

Close to a year later, we have one.  It's a tiny, three inch tall magnolia tree.  It reminds me of faith every time I look at it.  Right now it's still small, but it took 10 months to get this big.  I can't wait to watch it grow and develop into a tree with deep roots and beauty.  Faith or trees don't grow overnight, but it seems that the longer it takes, the more beautiful it is.

Trees

I just heard the first bird of the morning sing a wake up song.  "Focus!" he said. "Remember what is beautiful!" he said.

Trees are an important symbol in my life.  Fortunately I live in an older neighborhood with many trees.  A walk to school is mostly shaded and my family is serenaded on the way by a woodpecker, blue jay, cardinal, and the ever-present grackle.

What a tree means to me:

A tree in our backyard.

If I'm talking about faith, a tree represents how, many years ago, I was rooted in faith and my faith grows deeper and wider.  I have experienced seasons of withering faith where the leaves fell off my branches, but spring/Easter/resurrection have always followed a season of winter.

If I'm talking about my marriage, a tree represents my relationship with my husband.  A carelessly planted seed of friendship sprouted a twig and as we've weathered winters and springs together, we've grown stronger and our love has grown deeper and wider. (We've been married almost 12 years!)

If I'm talking about my children, their life is like a tree.  When they were born, they needed constant nurture and care and shelter from their parents.  As they are growing, they are sprouting little timid branches, slowly stepping out into the world.  Some of their branches will break, but I am hopeful that the nurture Adam and I are providing while they are saplings will help them maintain inner strength and the ability to weather the storms of their lives.

If I'm talking about love, we all start out small and only loving ourselves and the people in our immediate environment.  As we age, we start branching out and loving others, and that love begins to feed our core so we can grow deeper and branch out more to love more and more until we have taken up the entire neighborhood with our love branches.

Trees are an important metaphor to my life.

Thankful for Peace

Today is Friday, the end of another busy week.  I'm not sure if Adam knew, but I for one, have been continuously surprised by how much having a kindergartener has changed our life.  Our schedule is fuller and quicker.  I get up every morning at 5 or before so I can drink my coffee, read my Bible, and get a head start on the day.  On Saturday, I enjoy getting up at the same time so I can snuggle on the couch and snooze and read a book in peace. 

Where I was militant about daily naps for Claire, Paul has to go with the flow.  Sometimes he gets one, sometimes he doesn't.  Sometimes he's sleeping in the wagon while I walk to get Claire from school.  Sometimes he sleeps in the morning on the way to my granddad's house and then transfers his nap to a recliner. 

Our life rhythms now match that of the FWISD calendar. 
Here's my thankful list for today.  I haven't posted in a while, so I could easily make this list 100 + items, but for your reading pleasure, I'll try to keep it brief.

I'm thankful for:

1.  Trees, again
This time I'm thankful for the giant trees in our front yard.  They are the perfect size for the kids to climb.  Last week I had both kids in one tree.  None of those pansy trees for us.  We have big, strong trees.

2.  Kids with compassion
Yesterday, Paul went to comfort a crying friend without any prompting from me.  A mom friend told me last week that Paul overheard her talking about her sick kid and he questioned her with concern until he was satisfied his buddy would be okay.  I feel pride and hope for both of my children when I witness actions like this.

3.  A gold-medal Olympian
Claire won a gold medal in reading this week.  She's awesome.

4.  A husband that thinks completely differently from me
Some people enjoy surrounding themselves with people who think the same way as they do.  I love that Adam Boyette is one of life's greatest mysteries to me and I will never be able to figure him out.  He's like a lifelong puzzle.  We often compare notes on events or conversations we were both a part of.  It's always interesting to me to hear what stood out to him verses what I found important.  It is almost always different.  Adam keeps me thinking and always examining my opinions and assumptions about the world.  I often joke that while I am completely right-brained, he is completely left-brained so together we make one brain.

5.  My children's unique sense of style
Last Saturday I took both kids to Kohl's to buy a new outfit.  Paul wore his Batman costume and solicited many stares and giggles.  He also kept standing on his head in the basket, which added to the entertainment.  After lots of debate, Claire's outfit consisted of a hot pink jaguar print hooded top with black and white jaguar pants and a rainbow skirt.  I love that both kids have their own opinions about fashion and that they express themselves through their clothes.  Right this second, Paul is sitting on the couch in shorts, a T-shirt, and cowboy boots.

6.  Literature
This week Paul has really started to enjoy books on his own.  On Wednesday when we returned from the library, he sat for an hour looking at his newly checked-out books.  Claire read eight books before class this morning.  I read about two books a week, and even Adam has started reading every chance he gets.

7.  Being missed
Due to several scheduling conflicts, I have had to skip several of my normal events.  I had to take a time out of bookclub and Bible study.  No less than five people have told me they miss me at my normal event.  It's nice to be missed.

8.  The perfect job for me
I love my job.  Twice a week I get to sit in an office and have adult conversations and feel smart.  The other days I can work from the house while Paul plays.  I feel like a contributing member of society but still a stay-at-home mom.  I love it!

9.  Winter weather followed by beautiful weather
When it's 70 degrees outside, it's not uncommon to hear someone saying they wish it was this way all the time.  Not me.  I love the cold, if only for the fact that it makes me not take the beautiful weather for granted.

10.  Funny kids
While speaking like a pirate this week, Claire shouted, "Shiver me tenders!"  Hilarious.  In a Love and Logic moment, I left Paul at home by himself briefly while I waited in the driveway for him to panic and run out.  He didn't.  He stayed in his rocking chair reading books and even took time to pick up dog poop!  Paul is currently sitting on my shoulders.  Yep, I have a three year old on my shoulders while I am typing.  My kids make me laugh.

Happy Friday!