Thing One and Thing Two

Sometimes I'll walk downstairs or into one of the bedrooms and all I can see is things. Things that are downstairs and need to go upstairs, things that are upstairs and need to go downstairs, things that need to be picked up, things that need to be cleaned, things on top of things, her things, my things, his things. Ack! So many things! I want to gather them all into a giant sack, lay in my newly emptied house, and exhale a great big exhale because at last there are no more things. 

Other times (not kidding) I'll catch myself thinking, do we have enough things? Does Frances have enough things? You know, are they stimulating enough? Is she bored by them? Too old for them now? Over them? Is it time for some new things? 

We try to be selective about her things. We want them to have longevity - to be able to take on new meaning as she passes through different stages of development. We also want them to encourage her imagination and her creativity. Sometimes, toys whose purpose isn't a given can be put to many uses and rendered brand new when seen in a different light. 

Most importantly though, we want her to grow up to think carefully about things. To question the place that things hold in our lives. To question the value we (personally and as a society) give to things and the role we allow them to play in who we are and how we see ourselves. To appreciate and care for the things that we have and not assume that there are always more things just around the corner.

There are, I think, some have-tos that come along with being selective about things. We have to make sure as she grows that we talk about the things we have and want and why we want them and who makes them and how. We (but mostly I) have to make sure that in thinking about her things I also think about my things, namely my pretty deep love for shoes and clothes (and coats and bags and sunglasses and, um, shoes and clothes). Lastly, we have to make sure to fill her days with art and outdoors and music and new and different experiences so that this inclusion of fewer things is a thoughtful and intentional one and imbues in her a sense of all that she has not all that she lacks. 

On the days that she seems exceptionally bored by her things though (and maybe this is just a toddlerism), I wonder if I am living up to these responsibilities. Or even coming close. Will I be able to fill the space left by fewer things with thoughtful reflection, a feeling of gratitude and a love of life's non-things? Or, really, should I just get her some more things?