Stuff, Stuff and More Stuff.
There comes a time when a parent wants to purge. They get sick of seeing the pile of primary plastic that has taken over their house. They look at that pile and wonder "how can I skim this so the kids won't notice?" Because the moment the kids see the pile, it's over. They attack that pile like it was all their favorite things and you are the worst parent in the universe for trying to get rid of their things. Evil mommy.
This morning I put a nice pile of stuff outside my door so the folks at gooddonor.com could come pick it up. I love that web site because it keeps track of your donations on line so when tax time comes, you have a record of your donations. I put the bags of clothes and toys out after the boys went to school. I took one last look at the toys and make a little trip down memory lane.
My eyes went to toys like the leapfrog learning table, a quasi-annoying table, but four of the kids learned to stand with that table, so it was a fond memory. However, many other toys triggered other emotions.
I nearly giggled myself to bladder dysfunction when I realized I could get rid of the Xylophone. It got banged at the most inappropriate times, like 6am on a Saturday morning, and was used as a projectile that landed with an loud clang, which was great feedback for any kid. I once sat upstairs drinking my Bailey's and coffee while I listened to the kids play the xylophone, throw the xylophone, hear the xylophone land in a muscial clank on the floor over and over again until the coffee was gone. And then I had no choice but to reposess the nuisance and redirect. Bon voyage freaking xylophone. I hated you.
Another toy I am happy to see leave, is a Speak and Say about dogs. It didn't have an "off" switch and it used to go off randomly. I'd be sleeping and hear, "the saint Bernard is a helper dog" and then it would woof and play music. Good bye dog toy. I hated you.
Dear Letterpillar, you were fun when we got you. We tried to make you say bad words by combining sounds and if we got the right combination, you'd giggle. Your music feature was annoying and the button that would make you sing the ABC's, would be hit or go off at random times. That made me hate you. Good bye. Go bug someone else.
Good bye Melissa & Doug's 16 block puzzle that had animal pictures on all sides of each cube that was difficult to put togther. At one point a PhD in Chemistry and a PhD in Physics were working together to assemble the puzzle but were unsuccessful. That puzzle was an exercise in futility. Everyone hated you.
Elmo & Cookie monster noisy sound toy without an "off" switch. The kids didn't even like you that much and you used to go off at random times during the night. I hated you. Buh-bye.
Dear shape sorter, I got so tired trying to find all of your pieces once you threw up all over the house. I had to put you on a shelf and each time I found a piece, I was that much closer to donating you to someone else who maybe would hate you less that I did.
Dear box of random puzzles. You just had too many pieces for me to ever like you. Go find someone else's sofa to hide yourself under. I'm done.
The V-Tech Story Time Piano was a myriad of horrors. It lacked an "off" switch, it went off randomly and the music sounded like slow motion polka music. Every action on that toy started and ended with a "ya-hoo." I heard that so many times, I was tempted to steal a tractor just so I could run it over. Good bye awful toy, you were hated.
I was happy to get the stuff out and donated. Managing to do that without carrying the stigma of "evil mom" was a bonus. Purging rocks. I look forward to getting the next batch out.
There are other toysin that box that I look back with some nostaliga and there are some toys that were given to us and I realize why they were given to us.
I look at the amount of things and know I could choose to try to sell them via garage sales(which I hate hosting. I feel like the vultures have come out to eat you and take your stuff), ebay, cragis list , but that would take time and effort which I don't have. SOme how, the catharticism that is achieved when things are removed from your house over-rides the possible monetary gain from trying to see things yoursef. Plus, tax write offs are nice.