...and this: 
Do you see anywhere to work over there? I can hardly even get over to the table with all the bags and bins and boxes in the way. It's like a mid-route bus stop for stuff. At least I have a deadline to clean it up: we're having people over this weekend and there will be about 8 kids running around. Having packed up a multitude of toys to store and/or give away, I certainly don't want my efforts being un-done in some kind of kiddie free-for-all into the boxes. I have learned some things about children after all!
Yesterday while I was cleaning I had to fully admit that a change in my thinking is required. Oh, I really hate those realizations! As we (me and the kids) were going through toys and games, it became so terribly obvious that my expectations so to speak, from way before I had kids were not being met and are never going to be. That doesn't sound like it should. My kids are the best ever, and I wouldn't change a single thing about them. My expectations were selfishly imposed ones from my youth. It's like this: you're young, you say things like, "When I have kids.... (fill in the blank)". In my case I just figured that when I had a little girl, she would be tickled pink to play with all the ponies and Strawberry Shortcake dolls and Cabbage Patch dolls and what-not that I saved and hauled around in Rubbermaid boxes for 20 years. I also assumed that she would just love to have a pretty, store bought toy kitchen to play with and a hamper full of dolls and dollclothes. Don't think I'm totally naive; I know what My Favorite Girl has been like since birth, and I know that she doesn't consider those things so wonderful like I thought she would. I just assumed that she would grow to like what I did. Well, this weekend as we went through all the toys I finally had to admit that I've been spending money on the fantasy and getting frustrated when it didn't turn out.
So, the kitchen is going. It's so lovely though, don't you think? I hope it will find a home at our kindergarten.
And the 25 year old dolls and ponies are going. I can't keep this stuff around in the hopes that one day grandchildren might like to play with it. I'm only 36 years old and grandchildren are a long way off! Besides, I'm such a shopper that if they want to play with "vintage" toys, I'm sure I'll hunt them down with glee. I imagine I'll make someone very happy this week; a total stanger who patrols the thrift stores for vintage toys. It will be like a jackpot for them and I'll consider it a bit of a deposit in my karmic bank.
I am proud of My Favorite Girl though, for not being so sentimental over toys like I apparently am! I hope she doesn't carry around toys and shallow expectations for two decades and can be practical where I'm not. This is just one reason why she's so much better than I could have ever dreamed my daughter could be.
All in all this realization is a good thing; despite it's peeling-off-an old-and-very-sticky-bandaid feeling. We'll all have a bit more space to roam around in; I *should* save a few dollars by not buying stuff I would have loved to play with as a little girl; I'll spend less time picking up toys and just maybe I'll have more time to sew and stitch and do all the stuff I like.
That is, until I decide the furnace room really needs a clear-out...
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