Too many days and hours cleaning and moving stuff. Sometimes, I stop myself and just think, 'I could be doing so many other, better things with my time.' But what am I doing? Moving s.t.u.f.f. Putting away stuff. Thinking I need to get more stuff to put other stuff into. It's just STUFF!
It was an awesome read. I don't need a ton of organizers to organize my stuff - I just need to get rid of what I don't need, use, want, or have space for. What doesn't bring me joy.
It's a process. I'm a sentimental person. But...I must start somewhere. In order to see change, I need to do something different.
1.) Teddy Bear: My dad had once brought down a ton of boxes he'd stored for years at his house. In one of the boxes was this teddy bear dressed in the royal blue colors of John Sedgwick Junior High where I was drill team captain. My name and title had been embroidered on the skirt. My adorable advisor had given it to me and matching ones to my co-captains. It had sat on a wooden stool my dad had had when he was young, at the corner foot of my bed aside my hope chest, from grades 9-12 and likely until my room was converted after I left for college. It brought me a sense of accomplishment and a feeling of being loved whenever I looked at it. It brought happy memories of social acceptance among 45 other girls, feelings of creativity and long nights at practice, joy of performing, and reminders of young leadership within myself.
However, I didn't need the bear. Sure, Maiya may have found some joy in it, and perhaps I would look at it when I'm 80 and remember what I once was...but I just didn't need it. So, I donated it. It was a little hard to let go and a few times I thought to take it out, but I held strong and drove that load over. I forced myself a feeling of accomplishment pulling out of the donation drop, telling my sentimental self it was done, move on. Those were good years...in my past...and I have good years to enjoy in my present. I am a product of my young self and all the traits I learned then are still with me now.
2.) The $40 Salvation Army buffet: Being college-poor, I thought I'd always be college-poor. I remember having more time than money and one day took Ethan to Salvation Army to look at children's books which are much cheaper there than buying new. I remember pushing Ethan in a cart on the way out and seeing this gem. I was stoked! It was old. It spoke to me. I thought of all the years it must have lived through, what homes or garages it must have sat in and where, what items it must have held, conversations it must have heard, hands that had opened and closed, what it had looked like over the years. It was old and showed signs of being well-used, perhaps sanded down, and obvious unintentional as well as intentional scratches in the now unshiny, unfinished wood. As with anything, I pictured it being a beautiful piece with a little bit of work. I used it in our first home with a table runner over it and got a lot of compliments on it. I asked my uncle, who owned a cabinet shop, the best way of refinishing it - he suggested leaving it as-is because it was such a piece.
It had scratches in it. I remember one day finding Kiana...who had added her own inscriptions to it with a knife she was holding. She was smiling. I wasn't then. She wasn't sorry, she'd wanted to make her mark - and she had. Now, I have smiled many times whenever I passed this piece and saw her name scratched into the soft wood and how proud of herself she looked. Much laughter has been shared in sharing that story with others. I like to think I collect memories, and this piece held that memory to it's old wood and empty drawers.
But I wasn't using it. I had no place for it in our new house despite many attempts. This home just didn't have the wall space for it. So, it sat in the basement and then garage for awhile. I finally realized it needed to go - I couldn't keep looking at it and feel it's drag. Like a beautiful song that fills a room, but is unplayed. It deserved to have a purpose and be admired for the piece it was and is. One Sunday, my insides pressed my Determined Button and I posted it on ksl then left for church. When I came home, I had over 20 texts asking for it. Maybe my price of $80 was too cheap? I had bought it for $40. I texted one lady who was closest and said if she could pick it up today, it was hers. She was over in less than an hour with her white truck and supportive husband happy as could be. Her husband said his wife likes to collect furniture and despite it's imperfections, they were in and out of our driveway in less than 5 minutes. Her eyes were happy when I opened the garage and I could tell she felt SHE was getting a bargain. I felt she was driving off with a little bit of my Kiana, but I have the real deal sitting in my house. That's part of the point of the book - I have what is important.
3.) My maternity clothes. My favorite wardrobe. Maybe it was because they represented such a joyful, anxious time in my life. Maybe it was because they truly were my favorite outfits and if I wasn't pregnant I'd considered wanting the non-preggo version. Maybe because - my sentimental self - I'd let my sister-in-laws borrow them during their pregnancies and it multiplied that joy. Maybe I kept them out of hope and dreams that I'd wear them again while having more children...that was more the truth.
Maiya is 9. The reality is I'm not having more children. Sad. I've washed and neatly refolded these clothes a few times. I've moved them several times. I've tried convincing myself to sell them more times than that. And Ethan has complained about them even more. 9 years is a long time. I'd sold a 'lot' of them at the old house and a young blonde girl was happy to get so many clothes; her dad handed over the cash and said what a deal he was getting after seeing retail store prices. New chapters in life - I needed to embrace mine. With a full wardrobe for the office, play, church, swimsuits and more, I listed them on ksl for $400. A young to-be-mom expecting baby #2 drove over on her lunch break and gladly picked them up. She said she knew she was getting a deal since they were nice brands - 4 pairs of pants at Motherhood Maternity would run $400, and here she is driving away with two full totes to last her nine months and how many more babies. I'm glad other mom's get to wear them and hopefully feel the same joy I did when I wore them.
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