Nesting and Hoarding

First I just wanted to share this screen grab with you before I get into the meat of the matter, the juice in the box, the refried beans in the burrito.

I have posts 500 times. 500 times I’ve written something I’ve felt is worthy enough to share. While I love writing, stats are fun but don’t define my writing and blah blah blah you readers and subscribers and commenters definitely make it easier. You definitely make it worth while. Thanks for making this fun! I wonder what’s in store for the next 500?

Okay… now for the fun in dysfunctional…

The best way to get to know someone is to live with them for 10 years then start getting rid of stuff you don’t need any or use any more. Say, clean out your basement (or attic, or wherever you keep your stuff “for later”). In our basement you will find all the teaching stuff I saved from my classroom before our big move. The intent was to keep here until I got my own classroom. We moved here almost 7 years ago. That stuff is still here. I don’t have a classroom here, yet. We didn’t get rid of that. Even the Virginia social studies lesson plans.

Other stuff did go to the curb. The broken telescope and tripod. An old poster frame. A busted horizontal blind. Some stuff didn’t go. Kayak pads for the roof rack. An old driftwood post (I hid it outside somewhere, shhh). A laptop bag that I’ll start using for school because my messenger bag has outdoor paint spilled all over it.

It’s fun to see what your spouse is willing to keep and willing to part with. I call myself a pack rat. I keep stuff in case I need/want to use it later. I may never us it, but as soon as I throw it out I’ll need it. My dad’s mom is pack rat president. I’m not sure which chromosome the pack rat gene is on but it’s been passed on to me. I’ll need mom’s input to know if my dad has it too.

I’m not a hoarder, though. Here’s my argument… Hoarders suffer from severe anxiety. They’re not keeping their stuff to use later or because they might need it. They keep it because they’re literally afraid to throw it away. You can find some really interesting information on hoaders at Psych Central.

Sometimes things need to be thrown out, even if they’re our favorites. An old pair of shoes long past their mileage. Soccer short who’ve played in too many games. They disappear quietly when I’m not looking and can’t protest. It’s best for all of us that way. This is why we don’t throw stuff away when the kids are watching. Toys they haven’t played with for 25 years suddenly become a great interest. “Don’t throw that away!”

I’m pretty sure this is why my parents sent me to my grandmother’s for a few weeks every summer during my childhood. They wanted to toss out the toys I never played with any more. It only took me 30 years and having kids of my own to figure this out.

Thanks to Toy Story, I have trouble throwing away toys. So you can imagine my sadness when I saw Buzz Lightyear, well loved yet broken and missing pieces, in the bag to be tossed. He’s in a bag with others so hopefully they’re having a grand adventure.

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