Happy New Year to you all. The hustle and bustle of the Holidays is finally at an end. Now, I am living in the whirlwind of cleaning up and shipping out.
For Christmas, I shopped with purpose. Not only would the kids love their new toys but I didn't buy anything that had no place to go. Several times during our shopping trips, Randy would persist that a certain toy would be so cool and each child would love it. I had to put my foot down long enough to stress that I have no place for that toy. I wish I would have thought about shopping like that for the past few Christmases.
Santa delayed his trip to our house since Randy worked on Christmas. The kids were none the wiser. We adjusted the Advent calendar accordingly and things were running A-OK until Jake was dismissed from school on the 23rd only to inform me that "so and so" said Christmas was in two days. Hmmm, another quick thinking moment for me. "Yes, most people are celebrating Christmas in two days but I put a special call in for Santa to come when we can all be together." No more questions came up and we had extra time to prepare, which I so desperately needed.
Santa dumped his entire sleigh around our tree and the overflow came on Tuesday with extended family arriving to celebrate the season with us. Those gifts were the ones I wasn't prepared for. Those wonderful gifts are still looking for a permanent spot in our "busting at the seams" home. I am happy to report they will all find a great place this weekend (only to be pulled out and left on the floor, I'm sure).
However, in order to put everything away, I have the daunting task of going through old toys and getting them ready for a trip to the shelter. There's always this magical moment of feeling like I'm getting somewhere, sorting through the clutter and staying far away from becoming a hoarder, only to have this feeling squashed by two little people digging through the box exclaiming, "Hey, wait, that's mine! I've been looking for that!". Toys find their way out of the box and back to a basket that is once again spilling over with toys. Attempt number one: fail.
In the weeks ahead, I WILL get the toys back to the box and out the door. Some toys I am unable to part with. Just when I pick something up, I think about the Island of Misfit Toys, who would love to have a home, or Buzz and Woody, who are at wit's end when they are separated from Andy, and I put the toy back. Yes, I know they don't come alive at night but I can't bear giving away toys that have some sort of emotional attachment on my child's end. Perhaps when Jake and Kyla are in high school and rarely home they will say, "Mom, why do you still have this old thing?" By that point, it will be me who can't part with it because the emotional attachment will be too much...for these things used to belong to my babies.
