Some people breed babies (I’m looking at you, Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar). In our house, we breed baby stuff.
We must unconsciously feed our existing stuff after midnight and, as a result, are punished with exponentially more stuff. I suppose it’s better than not having any stuff at all. Although I’m actually not quite so sure.
Our poor baby Peony is the innocent victim in the whole thing, unfortunately. You’d think with so much stuff in the house she’d be reveling in a wonderland of stuff. But sadly for her, we look for every excuse to get rid of any stuff we can.
Last weekend while I was out of town my husband took it upon himself to do some projects around the house.
“Can we get rid of the mat-thingy with the things that hang down that’s been living in our bedroom closet?” he asked.
“Yes!” I said happily. “The mat part so big and half of the hangy-things are missing. Get rid of it.”
What stinks is that we used to have an awesome activity mat for our older daughter, but when it came time to take it out of storage for our younger daughter, all of the good parts were inexplicably missing. So we trashed it. We had two or three others in storage that had been passed on to us by God knows who, and in an attempt to purge one day, we got rid of those before we knew the ones we thought were good were missing parts. Which means she’ll never really benefit from one of those fun activity mats.
Same thing goes for the vibrating chairs. Apparently we have 3 – 4 of them. The two that are in the house are not really enjoyed by her. And we’ll never know if she’ll like the 2 that are in storage, because I gladly gave the greenlight to dump those over the weekend, too.
It’s nice when people give us stuff. But I don’t recall how we possibly accepted as much as we have without first checking our inventory or assessing what we could realistically fit or even use in a lifetime.
We have boxes and boxes of baby toys and books that we are either too tired or lazy or both to sort through. So we hold Peony a lot and sing to her and talk to her. But we dangle few things in front of her face the way we did with our older daughter. Part of it is Second Child Syndrome, sure, but lots of it is also You’re the Second Child So Who Possibly Has Time to Do This Crap Syndrome.
Whatever it is, the stuff is growing like weeds. And the more we cut it back, the more fiercely it seems to come back..
Too bad it doesn’t work like that with pre-cooked meals or clean, folded laundry.
Do you ever wonder where all the stuff in your house keeps coming from?