Cleaning out the attic

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My house has been over-run with kiddie stuff. Not quite sure how it could be any other way, given the two-boys-under-the-age-of-five, but it never ceases to amaze me just how much STUFF kids can accumulate.

Don't get me wrong, my kids aren't the so-spoiled-I-have-everything-that-I-ask-for type kids that you want to slap every time a commercial comes on (although when you're just trying to get out of Target before the meltdown, a good old-fashioned shut up gift can be a life saver...). But, admittedly we do live comfortably. The boys have plenty of toys and books to choose from (both purchased and passed down from my I-never-get-rid-of-anything husband).

But it's not the toys that are the problem. It's all the gear. Clothes, spoons, shoes, diapers, wipes, pull ups, Wet Ones, snack bags, bottle sanitizers. As the kids get older, most parents get a bit wiser. Rather than having multiple outfits to choose from on any given day, my kids literally have 10 shirts per season and a variety of jeans. If they need a dress up outfit, we buy it the week of the event because they grow out of things so quickly if I bought it in advance, it likely wouldn't fit anyway.

Unfortunately, this was not the case when my kids were younger. And, as a result, we literally have an attic full of clothes from preemie to 2T.

Today, we finally decided to tackle the problem. Angel invited a friend with a new baby boy over to sort through the stuff. Rather than donate everything, we wanted to share the wealth with someone we knew. Believe me, there is PLENTY to go around.

As Angel brought down bag after bag, box after box, I couldn't help but reflect on how quickly the years have passed. How the delicate preemie days blend into the terrible-two's. How my tiny baby boy is nearly up to my shoulders. How I can't really remember Victor as a baby (how did he get so HUGE?), but can't remember our family without him either. With every box came another memory, another milestone. About an hour in, I excused myself - allegedly to take a break.

Instead, I came into the office to cry.

I've never been big on collections. I don't keep things. I've been known to throw out taxes before the 7-year-limit just to make room in my files, and the thought of keeping a scrapbook makes me break out in hives.

But today, after my husband goes back to work, I'll take some time to build a collection of memories from the boxes that have over-run my attic. Not a big one, mind you (no need to go CRAZY or anything), but I will keep a few select pieces before sending the rest to the donation bin.

And I wouldn't be surprised if a few more tears mix in with all the baby clothes...
Madison said...

I have a small memento box for my boys. They're huge now, and I'm glad I have it.

HerMelness Speaks said...

I remember realising my children were growing up when I said impulsively one day - "Let's go." We went to the park and I didn't have the myriad of STUFF in tow. The change of clothes, the toys, the nappy changing armoury, the just-in-case other set of clothes...on and on and on. Apart from a couple of mementos there is nothing left from those days and I feel fine about it! :D

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