Going stealth

A year ago, when I was hospitalized on bed rest during my pregnancy with Ethan, Caroline took to coloring and drawing at all times.  Not a bad interest and/or coping skill for a 4-year-old to develop during a family crisis I might add.  When I came home from the hospital 2 weeks later, sadly with no baby, my kitchen table was missing underneath piles of her artwork.

Her passion for coloring, drawing, writing stories and more has continued this year.  I keep many of her pieces of artwork.  Hang them on the fridge, around the house.  And even save some in her pile of art that I have from the time she was a baby.

But I can't save it all.  I would already be classified as a hoarder if I did.  This beautiful parsonage we live in would have no wall space left.  So what do I do?  I save the new things, hang them places.  Place them in piles for a few days.  And then, occasionally I weed through them.  Recycling some of the pieces that she didn't pour her soul into.

But I am no fool.  I don't recycle them in front of her.  Usually I have to make a special trip out to the garage and place them in the large recycling bin so she won't see.  The last thing I want to do is hurt her feelings.  Or stifle her creativity and coping skill.  And today she caught me.  I had slipped a picture into the kitchen recycling underneath a box.

Caroline, aka Harriet The Spy, busted me.  She pulled that construction paper right out of that bin and said "Mom, what happened here?" or something to that effect.  (She's busted me more than once I will add)  Shaking her head, insinuating that I clearly had made a mistake.  Her mother wouldn't intentionally throw out her art, right?  Um...  Course not.  So on the fridge that crinkled blue construction paper went.  Where it will remain for an undetermined length of time until Harriet The Spy is asleep one evening and I head out to the garage for round 2.

This happens with our odds and ends toys as well.  The random pieces that are broken or are useless now that the rest of the toy is missing.  Pay attention rookie parents.  DO NOT THROW THEM AWAY IN THE KITCHEN TRASH.  Don't even bury them.  They will be found and you will have to answer to that 3-year-old of yours.  While trying not to lie to your child (it's not like I'm trying to have them nap or something).  But trying to avoid becoming the next episode of Hoarders.  Take an experienced parent's advice.  Go stealth.  Recycle and throw away under the cover of darkness.