In my mother-in-law’s attic, there’s a massive bin filled with Legos and a few boxes of odds and ends from my husband’s childhood. She’s saving these treasures for when our kids are old enough to enjoy them and until we find a larger home to store everything. On one hand, it’s nice that these relics from the past remain, but on the other, my children won’t have to wait for a bigger house to retrieve their childhood items because I simply won’t be keeping them.
No board books, no stained dolls, no toddler hats or little girl gloves. Once my kids outgrow something, it promptly goes to a friend, someone in need, or straight to Goodwill. I believe in clearing out what no longer serves us. It’s not that I don’t care about my kids’ memories—far from it. I’m just a minimalist at heart.
We move frequently, and I see no reason to cart around boxes that will likely end up collecting dust in closets or basements until my kids are “ready” to appreciate what’s inside. I’m not a particularly nostalgic person, so I might be projecting my own values onto my children. I’ve taught them essential life skills like walking, talking, and even wielding a fork, which means I’ve earned the privilege to declutter their old belongings.
What if I hang onto those drool-soaked blankets and gnawed wooden blocks, only for my kids to develop a similar mindset to mine? All that time and space wasted! I hope my children grow up in a world that values minimalism, where capturing memories through photos becomes more significant than hoarding physical items. After all, we live in an age dominated by smartphones, social media, and the vast Cloud that stores our memories. So why clutter our homes with dusty relics when we can hold onto countless images chronicling their journey from infancy to graduation?
Moreover, I want my children to understand that attachments to material possessions can be fleeting. Things can break, get lost, or fade in significance over time. Personally, I’m only attached to my laptop because it supports my livelihood. Everything else in my life could be tossed without a second thought because I firmly believe that relationships are what truly matter.
Family, friends, and caring for others matter most; things don’t last. People are irreplaceable and shape who we are far more than a worn-out teddy bear ever could. I would rather my kids focus on building relationships and creating lasting memories with loved ones than dragging boxes of toys into their first apartment.
I understand that some people feel more sentimental about these items, which is why I appreciate my mother-in-law’s perspective. However, my kids will have to navigate life without a tiny box filled with baby teeth. If you’d like to read more about parenting and family dynamics, check out this other blog post on Cervical Insemination.
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In summary, my approach to childhood relics is about prioritizing relationships over material items. While I respect others’ sentimental attachments, I believe fostering connections and creating memories is far more valuable than keeping old toys.