Working through my house and finding things to donate has been an ongoing challenge for me. Nearly every item I pick up generates questions and memories. What if I need this again? But ____ gave this to me and I love___! I’m trying to reframe those questions: Do I want to deal with this item for the rest of my life? Do I really think I’m going to use this when I haven’t taken it out of the box yet?
I have an additional challenge to my decluttering plans. An adorable, formidable challenge.
She’s cute. And so much smarter than me.
Emma has considerable talents, ones I shouldn’t write about as I fear the CIA will try to recruit her, and these skills make any kind of decluttering project even harder. For starters, she possesses a bionic sense of hearing. Until last week, the garage was the place where I could stash old toys awaiting donation. But last week she heard me whisper to Bob, my husband, that I’d hidden her birthday gift in the garage. She was on another floor of the house so maybe she bugged the room. And she went into the garage by herself for the first time in her not-quite-eight year old life. So now the garage is out.
She’s also adept at instinctively knowing when I’ve been filling a box of stuff to give away. It’s not a huge deal to lose the garage as a holding area for donations because it’s a mess anyway. So I have a few places in the house where I stash stuff until the date when the truck comes, but she’s really good at ferreting those out. Even when she was very small, she always outsmarted me. If she had the smallest clue I was getting ready to donate anything of hers, she usually found it. On more than one occasion she’d march past me with the slightest hint of defiance, clutching the rescued item close as if she expected me to grab it again. Bob would follow in her wake, always looking slightly sheepish over choosing my wrath over Emma’s.
When she was smaller I would donate toys she outgrew without thinking twice, though my decisions came back to bite me a couple times. I once gave away a doll she hadn’t touched in months. A few weeks later, my husband was home with her and called me at work to ask about the doll. We didn’t tell her I gave it away, but she knew it was gone and cried. I still feel terrible though I was able to replace it.But the memory of how upset I felt is enough to make me hesitate more often than I should.
Now that’s she’s older, it’s getting a little easier. I’ve been surprised by her willingness to give away some things. Last month she filled a box with Littlest Pet Shop and LaLaLoopsey toys, but I put the box in the attic in case she has a change of heart. If she hasn’t asked by summer I’ll give it away. She also went through her large collection of Easy Readers and chose a stack to donate.
She spelled ‘donate’ correctly all by herself. Proud mom moment.
Trying to rid the house of things she doesn’t play with brings up conflicting feelings for me: I know the things she feels are special may differ from the things I feel are special, so I want her to be involved, but it’s so much easier when she’s not.Regardless, it’s always easier to go about this clandestinely. This week we may finally leave the cold temps and ice behind us and have an uninterrupted week of school. I feel like I’ve been lagging behind and need to get the momentum going again.