Allow me to elaborate. This summer, Maggie went to a Vacation Bible School where the theme had something to do with the Wild West. One thing that she brought home from Bible School that week was a really cute "wanted" poster, done in the style of the old West, that had her picture on it and said "Wanted by God." I thought it was really cute, and she has it hanging on her bulletin board in her bedroom. Another thing that she brought home was a tiny cowboy boot about four inches in height, made of thin craft wood, and painted in dayglo orange, pink and green. It had an opening on it the size of a nickel in the shape of a star that a bumblebee would be hard-pressed to get through. She called this creation a bird house. The "birdhouse" hung out on the kitchen counter for a week until she had forgotten about it, then it was shoved to the bottom of the trash can and picked up by our garbage man on an early Thursday morning.
Oh, you'd better not be thinking to yourself: she is so heartless! Not saving her children's special art projects, shame on her, she belongs in the bad mom hall of fame. Confession time here - - NOPE - I don't save every creation my children bring into the house. I will admire and compliment them on their artwork and drawings and colorings and paintings, but I don't save every single one. That's not to say that I don't save SOME things, but I indeed do not save every piece of paper that a crayon has ever touched, or every art project that a gluestick has ever graced. If I did, I think I would have to rent a separate storage facility to simply house it all.
If you visit my house, you will see the kids' artwork hanging on the fridge. As more things come in the house that they want on the fridge, the old stuff has to go somewhere. A few of the things do get saved in boxes I have set aside for each of them that I keep under my bed. Most of it though gets relegated to the vertical file. And occasionally, like last night, my tidy habits have a way of biting me in the butt. And so I looked my daughter in the eye and firmly said, "ummmmmmm......I'm not sure where it is." (because that is true after all - - I don't know where our garbage is taken once it leaves my house!!) But she knows me....yes, she knows me well. She took one look at me and said, "you pitched it, didn't you?" Under the pressure of my six-year old's knowing eye, I caved. "Yes, sweetie, I think I did," I admitted. She didn't seem that fazed by it, and we moved on to talk about something else.
HEY - nobody better diss me in the comments section for keeping the clutter to a minimum in my house by selective artwork reduction. . . .if you have a problem with it, I can always set aside a box of "treasures" just for you. My kids can even come over and help you redecorate. . . .