Sorting clothing angst
Dec. 28th, 2004 12:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pegkerrFiona has been weeping for the last half hour.
We have been going through clothes, because their drawers are overstuffed and we just got another crop of hand-me-downs from the cousins. So I went through their drawers with them and sorted: these to go to the younger cousin, these to go back in the drawer, these to get thrown away. And Fiona is weeping, weeping, weeping, over a couple of shirts, torn and stained with filth and dearly, dearly loved.
She went into the hall where I had put the garbage bag filled with the discards, pulled the shirt out again, and collapsed on the floor, her face buried in it, sobbing.
I know what you're thinking: Peg, if it means so much to her, why not let her have the damn shirt?
I'll tell you why: I married a man who has obsessive-compulsive disorder, who gets physically ill at the idea of throwing things away. At the time I married him, I didn't know what immense stress that would cause our lives. And I am determined that the girls have to learn this: when something is ruined, you have to learn how to get rid of it.
Edited to add: Both girls have a keepsake box, which holds old clothes which are particularly lovely and sentimental (first dress, first christmas dress, etc.), even if they are too small for them to wear.
However, the clothes that Fiona has cathected onto so strongly are not only old, they are faded and covered with holes and ground in stains and dirt. There is nothing the least bit lovely about them. They are complete and utter rags.
I did try to give her some feeling of control by telling her: you can keep one tie-dye T-shirt (she had about five).
You must also keep in mind that the girls are growing. We have limited storage room for clothes that fit them. We can't spare drawer space for clothes that don't fit them and are utter rags, just because they love them so.
We have been going through clothes, because their drawers are overstuffed and we just got another crop of hand-me-downs from the cousins. So I went through their drawers with them and sorted: these to go to the younger cousin, these to go back in the drawer, these to get thrown away. And Fiona is weeping, weeping, weeping, over a couple of shirts, torn and stained with filth and dearly, dearly loved.
She went into the hall where I had put the garbage bag filled with the discards, pulled the shirt out again, and collapsed on the floor, her face buried in it, sobbing.
I know what you're thinking: Peg, if it means so much to her, why not let her have the damn shirt?
I'll tell you why: I married a man who has obsessive-compulsive disorder, who gets physically ill at the idea of throwing things away. At the time I married him, I didn't know what immense stress that would cause our lives. And I am determined that the girls have to learn this: when something is ruined, you have to learn how to get rid of it.
Edited to add: Both girls have a keepsake box, which holds old clothes which are particularly lovely and sentimental (first dress, first christmas dress, etc.), even if they are too small for them to wear.
However, the clothes that Fiona has cathected onto so strongly are not only old, they are faded and covered with holes and ground in stains and dirt. There is nothing the least bit lovely about them. They are complete and utter rags.
I did try to give her some feeling of control by telling her: you can keep one tie-dye T-shirt (she had about five).
You must also keep in mind that the girls are growing. We have limited storage room for clothes that fit them. We can't spare drawer space for clothes that don't fit them and are utter rags, just because they love them so.
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Date: 2004-12-30 03:37 am (UTC)Peg -- I think you're doing a terrific job, and it's one that worked very well for my Mom over the years. My Dad is a horrible, horrible packrat who refuses to give or throw stuff away. As a preventative measure, Mom would go through our rooms with my sister and I twice a year (on Christmas vacation and during the week after school ended) and do just what you're doing; sort stuff to keep, stuff to hand down, and stuff to toss. It was hard every time, though knowing exactly what was expected every December and June did make it easier to anticipate the process from year to year.
Now, at 25, the only things I obsessively hold onto are greeting cards I receive through the year. And I follow Mom's old plan for my room: I go through the hatbox every January and wipe it clean -- saving no more than a dozen cards which will be scrapbooked as is, cutting up anything pretty to be used for gift tags, and tossing the rest.
Twenty years from now, your girls will thank you for teaching them the hard lessons when they were able to learn them.