One of my favorite baby gifts from my first pregnancy was a tender little Willow statue of a pregnant mama. (Pictured third from the left). And thus followed my first (and probably last) adult collection of things that are simply pretty.
The only one that managed to escape the last six years unscathed was the Papa statue. The rest, as you can see, have been cracked, smashed, beheaded, destroyed.
Except for this one. Someone thoughtfully provided her with a face.
When I took these pictures a couple of months ago, this post was going to be a wry cry for advice…should I try (again) to glue the pieces together? Or advice for my rather sad self on dealing with the destruction of my pretties.
But this week I undertook a fairly serious overhaul of our junque and finally got up the courage to toss them in the garbage. On top of the watermelon rinds.
Please, I beg you, nobody tell me that I could have fixed them…you will upset my fragile equilibrium on this matter. Haha.
Sometimes emotional connection is really no reason for holding on to things. Which is perhaps why it might not be the best idea to purge when pregnant…it seems like everything has an emotional connection. College assignments and notes, books that I will never read again, toys that no one likes except me…and I don’t play with them. Wrenching business, I tell you.
But after donating a fairly significant load of stuff this week, I feel like there is still more crud hanging out here in my dwelling. Maybe even two more loads of stuff. Stuff I’m hanging on to that I really should clear out.
I actually love this part of pregnancy, this inborn drive to make room for new life. I feel like I should go to counseling and clear out the past, go to a sauna and clear out the pores (not when pregnant, I know, I know), go to the dentist and clear out the plaque. Or whatever. It’s the spirit of the thing.
But I’ll probably just go upstairs and see if there is anything else I can clear out of the closet.