I have dragged all the clothes that were piled in the basement up into the living room. It’s a mess, and I’ve now spent hours sorting and resorting it. If the girl has outgrown it, it can go. Some will go to friends with smaller girls, some to Goodwill. Maybe some of it will get sold at the consignment shop, but I’m feeling like I’m too lazy for that this week. Middle Bird’s stuff has to be sorted into the “I don’t want to see it again, but it’s still in good shape” pile for giving away, and the “Oh, I love this, thank God I have another boy to wear it” pile for Baby Bird. THAT stuff has to be stored and marked appropriately so I don’t lose track of it in the next accumulation of crap in the basement.
This is a job I hate with every fiber of my being. If I ever win the lottery, my greatest joy will be just tossing out our old clothes for someone else to go through and decide what to do with. I know that makes me sound like a huge brat, but I’m okay with that. My Facebook status from earlier today read, “Every so often, and not as often as I should, I go through the many piles of clothes that get stowed in the basement for before moving on to their next stop (Goodwill, friends with younger kids, consignment shops, etc.). I hate this job more than just about anything, but the worst part is that no matter what detergent was used, the stale but clean laundry is a smell I just can’t stand.” A friend from college quickly agreed that she dislikes this chore, but because it reminds her that they have SO much. Holy Cow, we have so much. We really, really, really have so much. It’s not fancy stuff, mostly. It’s not expensive stuff. Oh, there’s a few odd Ralph Lauren pieces for the kids, mostly bought used or inherited, but most of it is no fancier than Lands End or Gymboree. There’s a lot of Target stuff in there, Sears, and a few odd K-Mart pieces from before the nearest one went out of business. But it’s still SO much! It’s not like I’ve been keeping every article of clothing these kids have ever worn, either. This is just the last year or so. Maybe a little longer for the boys since I’ve been hanging on to MB’s for BB.
We are so very blessed. Not because we have a ton of clothes, that’s a mixed blessing at best, and we’d likely be better off with smaller wardrobes. We are incredibly blessed because we don’t even have to think about how many clothes we have. I need to work on making my children more aware of these blessings. Not just the amount of clothing we have, that’s silly. But the roof over our heads, the incredible amount and variety of food we have, the warm beds we sleep in. Each other. Our health. This community. It’s a long list. Those are just the tangible things.
Gosh, I’m not explaining this well. I had hoped that this regular blogging thing would help me express myself a little better, but so far, not so much, huh? We’re blessed. That’s all, I guess. And I know it and I want my kids to know it. Someday we might find ourselves in a less fortunate place than we do today. We can survive a lot, but we need to know now, while we’re still here in these glorious, blessed days, that it might not always be this good! That doesn’t mean we won’t still be blessed. So, my prayer is that we might always see ourselves as blessed even as our blessings shift and we face adversities.
I’m not done rambling today, I think. Look for me to be running my mouth again this evening.