In the attic of my mother-in-law, there’s a sizable bin filled with childhood Legos and various other items from my husband’s early years. She plans to keep them until our children are old enough to appreciate these relics and until we find a space adequate enough to store them.
On one hand, it’s nice to see remnants from my husband’s past. However, my children will never have to wait for a bigger home to access their childhood mementos because I don’t plan on keeping them. No board books, no worn dolls, no toddler hats or tiny gloves. Once my kids have outgrown something, it goes to a friend, someone in need, or Goodwill. I believe in passing things on to others who can benefit from them.
It’s not that I lack sentimentality or don’t want my children to have keepsakes from their youth. I’m not heartless; I simply identify as a minimalist. Given that we move frequently, I see no point in dragging around boxes that will eventually be shoved into closets, only to gather dust until my kids are “ready” to appreciate them. Personally, I’ve never been one to cling to items from my own childhood, so I suppose I’m projecting my values onto my kids. After all, I’ve taught them essential life skills, so I feel justified in letting go of their old belongings.
Moreover, what if I decide to keep those drooled-on blankets and chewed wooden blocks, only to find my children have little attachment to them? That would mean I wasted time and space for no reason at all. I like to think that with the rise of minimalism and the trend towards smaller living spaces, my kids will embrace a lifestyle that values experiences over possessions.
We’re in an era dominated by smartphones, social media, and the expansive Cloud that preserves our memories. Why clutter our lives with dusty items when photographs of their childhood milestones will follow them throughout their lives? The intention behind keeping physical items is to evoke memories, yet a simple image can elicit the same warm nostalgia.
Additionally, I want my children to understand that attachments to material things can lead to disappointment. Items can break, get lost, or fade in significance over time. Aside from my laptop, which is essential to my work, I wouldn’t be too bothered if all my possessions vanished. I firmly believe that relationships with people are far more important than any object.
Family, friends, and helping those in need are what truly matter. People are irreplaceable; they shape our lives in ways that a worn stuffed animal never could. I’d much prefer my children grow up learning to care for others and create meaningful memories with loved ones rather than lugging around boxes of toys into their first apartments. I understand that others may feel differently about this, which makes my mother-in-law’s sentimental attachment to childhood items endearing. However, my kids will not have a tiny box of baby teeth to hold onto.
In summary, I choose to prioritize experiences and relationships over material possessions, believing that memories hold more value than things. If you’re interested in learning more about home insemination, explore Make A Mom for helpful resources. For more insights on pregnancy and home insemination, March of Dimes offers excellent guidance, and if you’re seeking creative ways to announce your new arrival, check out Intracervical Insemination for templates.
