Job Well Done

It was a task long-overdue. A summer job. Something that would require all of us (mom and the children, anyway) to accomplish: cleaning out and giving away some toys.

We started on Wednesday afternoon with the game shelf. They keep coming, these games. At least one per birthday (that's three) and then maybe one or two more for Christmas. At the rate we collect them-- and at the rate we don't clean out the game shelf-- we had, on Wednesday, Too Many.

I was impressed, really, by the efficiency and honesty of the children in parting with them. They were frank: "No, we don't play with that anymore." "No, I don't like that one now." They were willing to give them away. And they were vocal, assertive about, even eager to play with some that had been neglected.

I was pleased. And we had a small pile on the playroom floor.

That could have been enough for one day, but this first task had gone so well. Why not move over to the Major Toy Storage Area, that space under the television where, for years, we've stored bins and bins of toys? So we did.

The Bionicle bin stayed, as did the Matchbox car bin, the Lego bin, the Playmobil bin and the wooden train set bin (which, let's be frank, we're keeping for young guests at this point). Also kept the Kapla blocks and the little basket of wooden blocks that we got-- when was it?-- when William was two.

We jettisoned the two (two!) empty Lego bins (why had I kept them?) and (it was Time, I know) the Fisher Price castle set, complete with joker and king figure (the other knights are long-ago-lost, and one of them had lost his arm), horse-drawn wagon-that-converts-to-armored-vehicle, and dragon. The castle has a draw-bridge that really works and makes wonderful (electronically-generated) creaking draw-bridge sounds when you push the lion's nose above the gate. These were gifts to William for his fourth birthday. They had felt like a Huge Splurge at the time, but when I think of the hours of play they enjoyed (even now a string is lassoed about the flag on one of the turrets), I know it was Totally Worth It.

Still, the castle had to go. It was Time. None of the children doubted it for a minute.

Also purged from this under-the-television area were the two hobby-horses that William and Everett received for Christmas when they were (when was it?) five and three. Or maybe four and two. They really don't ride them anymore.

The pile on the playroom floor grew.

We were on a roll. Next off to the toy-chest, where we were all relentless. And now two garbage bags joined the pile. And finally on to the costume bin, which of late is almost entirely populated with Nerf guns of various sizes, light sabers, a few cowboy pistols, and an impressive slew of bandanas. We did cull some more stuff from here, but most of it was junk. I sequestered the cowboy hat that Bill brought to William from Australia when Will was 16 months old, the felt vest I made for William's second Halloween (he was a pirate), and-- gasp!-- Everett's Batman costume, the one he wore Almost Every Day while he was four.

The pile was Most Impressive, and the children helped me carry it out to the van, the back of which it filled Quite Nicely. Not bad for an hour or so of summer labor. The playroom feels accessible now, approachable. The things in there are things they want, and there's a place for everything.

I took the load to the giveaway yesterday. Emma was at camp; the boys had stayed home reading. It was up to me to unload everything to the large yellow bins in the narrow hallway, and I worked alone, efficient and quiet.

The bins weren't very full. I deposited my goods in one that was nearly empty, one marked "household goods," because I couldn't find one marked "toys."

It seemed strange that our things should take up so much space. Stranger still, in that store and hallway full of the smell of used and old and unfamiliar things, to see our Very Familiar Things piled there, just a little bit abandoned.

The hobby horses lay off to one side; the castle was on the top of a pile of garbage bags. I pushed the lion's nose, just to hear the sound of the drawbridge one last time.

I'm not sentimental at all. No. Not in the least.

Just then a friend from church came in, making her own deposit of well-loved things. Her girls are much younger than my children, and she exclaimed when she saw the hobby-horses lying there.

"Oh my gosh. The girls would go crazy over these," she said.

And suddenly I felt so glad. So Glad. "Take them," I said to Samantha. "Take them. They don't really belong here. I just put them there, and nobody from the store has even seen them yet."

"Are you sure?" she said, smiling, doubting.

"Absolutely," I said. "It would make me so happy," I said. And, "The head on one of them is a bit wobbly."

Samantha grasped the horses by their sticks and headed out the door behind me. "The girls will be thrilled," she said.

And I drove away to pick my girl up from camp, remembering that it was only just last summer (wasn't it?) that the boys used that castle (didn't they?) as they played with their Playmobil things.