Wednesday, April 24, 2013

One step away from Hoarders

At least that's what it feels like in my house.

I am trying to go through all of the things that I have no use for, which inevitably comes to stuff that the kids own or have made. I am not completely crazy, at least--I know that I'll never need whatever random finger painting Henry pokes at twice before moving on to the next sheet of paper (I think I need to buy stock in a fingerpaint paper supply company), so many of those end up in the trash. But still, I find myself feeling bad about getting rid of random things, such as the bag of polished stones that Henry just had to have on one of our trips to the Zoo. I had thrown them out, because, really, does a three year old need a random bag of rocks that he hasn't actually looked at since about two days after getting them? But I found myself pulling them back out, because, I don't know, I'm stupid, I suppose. (I also like commas, and starting sentences with 'but'.)

I assume it goes back to me not really having anything from my childhood, so I feel bad about getting rid of anything from their childhoods. But (#3), comma, I know that they aren't going to care about not having the bag of stones or whatever item in one week, let alone 25, 30, 50 years. And it's not like I have any use for them, other than for them to clutter up the house and get in the way. When we moved into the bigger house, we were like, yes, we will never fill up this house with commas stuff, we have so much roooooom! But (4) here we are. And we have only had kids for a little over three years. What happens when Ian is making all sorts of art projects and wanting all sorts of bags of stones? What happens when they (gasp) start school and start bringing home even MORE projects and things? (Anyone have any advice on that front?)

I guess my choice is to cut down on the clutter and deal with the feeling of being a jerk by getting rid of their precious things, or I can realize that in the long run, the bag of stones or whatever isn't going to make a difference in their lives, so why live in a cluttered house, and raise kids thinking they need to hold on to every little thing? I say out loud that it's the memories that matter most, not the things. Maybe it's time I start listening to myself.

Monday, April 8, 2013


I was talking to Henry in the car the other day about how eventually we want to put in a greenhouse in the back yard. I am a crazy paranoid dad and apparently being a parent has turned me into some sort of hippie. I don't really care what I am putting into my body because what the hell, but with my kids, I try to get more "natural" stuff. I am aware that my 19 year old self would laugh at my 29 year old self for saying that, but whatever. I'd like my kids not pumped full of all kinds of who knows what. Maybe it's silly or dumb or something, but they are my kids and I would rather they not die any sooner than absolutely necessary.

Anyway, I was telling Henry about how we want to put in a greenhouse and grow some of our own vegetables and whatnot, when he got really upset, because "[he doesn't] want a greenhouse! What do we have to paint it green for?"