Keeping things

I am not a hoarder. I don't hoard. In fact, I am much more likely to throw away mementos and keepsakes than...keep them. I know this about myself, so I force myself to remember that my children might like mementos and keepsakes, so I have a box for each of them, and there I keep things that might be of interest to them later.

Hannah is a hoarder. She does come by it honestly, though, because her dear father, who is a wonderful and amazing man, is also a hoarder. He's actually come a long way about what he'll keep, and he's taken his box of miscellaneous computer stuff to his office (most likely because he's afraid I'll find it and throw it all away one day), and I really don't mean to complain, because keeping things isn't necessarily better than not keeping things...unless the things you keep start taking over your life. Michael's things don't generally start taking over his life, as he usually has a firm hand on them.

Hannah's things, though...I really don't know how to describe it, and I am really unsure of how she gets all this stuff. I am constantly surprised (or appalled?) at the amount of stuff she wants to keep. Really. I have provided for her to keep things, because although I am not a keeper, I recognize that other people are, and it is not always good or necessary to force my not-keeping-ness onto other people. She has a treasure box and a nature box and several shelves she calls her office. She has a file box for storing the papers that she really HAS to keep. (How many 7-year-olds do you know who have an alphabetical file box that they use?) She has a 3-drawer plastic thing. She has a plastic box for her knitting and other craft supplies that are specifically hers. This is besides the usual dresser for her clothes, jewelry box for her jewelry, and shelf space for her books. I don't make her keep her books in her own storage area, that would be odd. Particularly since books are the one area that I really AM a keeper.

All of this is great, except that I turn around for an instant (or two days) and there is a layer of Hannah's stuff ALL OVER THE PLACE. Right now, as I look around the room, I am sincerely astonished at what she's been able to cover with her stuff. She's started using the small parts of the family bookshelves -- you know, the parts in front of the books -- for various knicknacks. When I looked in her office to find out why she didn't put things there, it's because HER OFFICE IS STUFFED FULL.

So I have my work cut out for me: teach Hannah that saving is okay as long as it's stuff that is worth saving and as long as it doesn't take over her life (or mine, for right now, since she doesn't really care if her stuff is lying about in a fine layer over every horizontal surface in the house, but she might like the skills to keep this from happening in her own house or nun's cell when she gets old enough).

I started this process years ago, when I realized that we were coming up to Halloween and Hannah still had candy from last Halloween, Christmas, Easter, and any other time that she might have gotten candy throughout the year. Some might think this is an innocuous thing, but the candy is kept in a drawer with tablecloths and things (yes, this isn't in any of her treasure-keeping areas, either! What does she keep in there?!?), and really, how much year-old candy does one girl need?

We made a rule: saved candy must either be consumed or thrown away by Halloween. Hannah started feeling the pinch of the rule again yesterday.

H: Mom, can I keep some of my candy this year?

Me: No, Hannah, you know the rule.

H: What about just one piece?

Me: No, Hannah.

H: Please? Just my lucky piece of candy?

Me: No. What makes your piece of candy lucky?

H: I found it on the ground outside.

Me: [Gee, I'm glad I didn't say she could keep that.] It has to go, too.

H: Well, maybe I'll have a throwing away ceremony and I'll make a wish on my lucky candy.

Me: Great!

H: [Surveying her candy stock] Maybe I'll have to have more than one throwing away ceremony.

Me: Good idea!

A few minutes later:

H: Mom, I made a wish on my lucky candy. Do you want to know what it was?

Me: Sure!

H: It's that next year my candy gets all used up before Halloween!

And if you aren't yet convinced that Hannah is a hoarder, there was something else that came to light in the throwing away ceremonies.

H: [holding out a ziploc sandwich bag full of colorful-looking things] Look, Mom! I saved the wrappers from my candy!