They say 3 moves purges as much stuff as a fire. I’m testing that theory this summer.
I moved last summer to what I knew would be temporary housing, grateful to sell my suburban home and trade it for a tiny rental in a unique small-town within a big city. This year, we are moving again and long story short, will be required to move twice.
Generally speaking, I am not a hoarder, my clothes fit into a small closet, I don’t own many knickknacks. Yet one exception proves this rule, my box upon box of keepsakes. From magazines and newspapers sharing the date of my children’s birthdays to notes they wrote to thousands and thousands of pictures, I have stored enough memories to create an archive. Difficult to part with, each item holds a special irreplaceable moment for me or my child and I am scared I will regret getting rid of them.
This move I have vowed will be different. As I delve into my thoughts about why I insist on keeping these things, I realize that somehow I believe it is my job, my duty so-to-speak, to be the family archivist/historian. I am the one responsible for taking a million adorable pictures of them, for blogging or scrapbooking every cute moment. Will they think I have failed them as a mother when I don’t have their kindergarten report card? Will they think I didn’t love them if I don’t save their macaroni necklace made in primary or the funny note they left me on their whiteboard? Will they believe they never crawled, danced, kicked a ball if there’s not video documentation?
I can’t part with the idea that I SHOULD be doing these things, so I keep the stuff for when I finally do.
Is my self-assigned duty a gender role on steroids do we all have things we believe we should be doing, regardless of whether we want to or have time, talent and energy resources to accomplish them?
Either way, enough is enough this move and the “fire” is forcing me to thin my stash.
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I had a wise branch president who advised me that we ought to purge the word ‘should’ from our vocabulary. Feeling guilty about something doesn’t do us any good unless it moves us to do something about it was basically his argument. Feeling bad only hurts us unless it motivates us. Always thought that was wise although I do confess to having a very hard time implementing it.
Just a thought….
We save stuff, too. But one thing Brent has done that seems to work well is ask the kids to take pictures of favorite things. And then we get rid of the favorite things, but save the picture. About a month ago, we purged their stuffed animal stash. Marin and Stuart went to great lengths to set up a big display of them on the trampoline. They saved their most favorite ones, but the rest got stuffed into garbage bags.
Same with a bunch of school projects–the tri-fold display boards, particularly. A picture of the kid next to the poster/science project, etc. and that’s that.
As far as schoolwork, I only save a few things from each year–particularly cute drawings or stories they’ve written. The rest goes in the recycling bin.
I really like this idea, Heather. I find myself taking photos of old stuff so it’s archivable on a computer… but like Mel, I still haven’t really got rid of much of the originals! :)
We don’t get many fires over here (too wet?), so I’m probably just going to have to have a ‘sort out’ soon. My Dad is quite good at it – a black bag, and before you know it, it’s done!
What about the hot tub, eh, Mel? Time to lengthen the approved soak-time? ;)
I loved that note too – that they wanted to tell you about Dad’s rule changing AND that they were fine. Precious. Do NOT throw away that note! :)
The note is SO SO precious. And I would definitely hesitate to throw it away . . . but if/when it becomes necessary to pare down our belongings, what would Mel really lose if she only had the picture and not the actual piece of paper?
On the other hand, my grandma threw away a bunch of precious things after my grandpa died–photos and photo albums. We can never get those back. :(
After my mom died a couple of years ago we discovered boxes upon boxes of papers and photographs from every stage of our family’s life – some going back to Mom’s own childhood. There were long-forgotten Mother’s Day cards drawn in crayon, vacation photos, programs from school plays, etc., etc., many of which we’d long forgotten, some of which we had never before seen. We laughed and cried, remembered and marveled.
Mom and Dad had to move several times (into successively smaller homes) in the years after we kids grew up and moved out, and Mom was forced to jettison a good number of her possessions, which made her stubborn insistence on keeping every possible scrap of our childhoods all the more surprising. My sisters and I ended up being grateful beyond words that she did.
That’s why I say get rid of anything else, but keep the memories if at all possible. :-)
I like to take a photo of the child holding the project or letter. Then I have a picture of them at the age they made the project. I also like to scan certificates and shrink them so more of them fit on a page. THEN I throw them away. :D