As you all know, I’m clutter-phobic. If I see papers piling up on surfaces, I give my husband 24 hours to go through them or it all gets trashed. Same goes with nik-naks, toys, old clothes, etc… I hate when things build up in the house. It makes my brain feel crowded, disorganized, chaotic. I like things Spartan, minimal, serene.
Therein lies the problem. Parker does not share my Spartan inclinations. Not even close. Everything is precious to him. Every hole-y sock, every scribbled on piece of paper, every broken toy. The child has a bleeding heart (which I love), but something’s gotta give. Part of the problem is that he comes home from school everyday with 10 sheets of artwork. I usually keep one or two items a week and then when no one is looking, I trash the rest. I know, I’m a mean mommy, but what the heck are we supposed to do with it all?
That solution was working just fine until I got busted…by Parker. “Mommy!!!! How did my paper get into the trash!!” Uh-oh. So, I tried to have a conversation about minimalism and just keeping his favorites, but my dear child would hear none of it. Instead, I got a scathing, “How could you mommy.” Ouch.
So now, Parker has a stash in his room of all of his stuff and he routinely opens the trash to see if I stole anything. In retrospect, I probably handled the entire situation poorly and now we have some fixing to do. My mom suggested that I let him take a picture of his art before it meets it’s death at the dumpster so that he can revisit each scrap of paper and scribble he’s ever made.
I’ll bring up that idea as soon as it’s not such a sore subject. In the meantime, I’ll have the Irishman clean Parker’s room since just walking in there and seeing the pile of papers makes my eye twitch and leaves me wanting to reach for the vodka.