Hobson's Choice: Sometimes purging feels like...

It's a New Year, and I've been going through the clutter. I've been pitching and donating and organizing. I've been a little bit inspired by my friends who've embraced minimalism. I've been a little bit inspired by the big birthday coming up in a year and a half. I've been a little bit inspired by the realization that as I get older, it is going to get harder and harder to remember where I've put things.

But..

But...

I think we call it "purging" for a reason, and sometimes it makes me want to throw up a little.

There are things that I no longer use that I am just not ready to pitch. There are books that each child requested in their toddler years, five-hundredty-million times (as my preschoolers would say). No one is ever going to ask me to read those books again. A couple, I am saving for Paul and Eleanor's children. But most of the books in this category have been so "well-loved" that any first time parent would run from them in terror. The books are falling apart and generally disgusting, cracker crumbs between the pages, all lift-the-flaps creased and re-creased. There may be boogers. I'm not inviting you over to take a look. I am just telling you that they are not keepsakes, nor do they have any resale or donation value.

But when I think about purging "Feely bugs" or "Fix it Please" or "Ten Nine Eight," I have to lie down a little.

No one is ever going to ask me to read "Ten Nine Eight" again and run her fingers over her own nightgown buttons when the little girls in the book counts her buttons. No one certainly wants the completely falling apart copy of "Feely bugs," but which for me encapsulates the memory of the first time my daughter interacted with a book and I knew that my little preemie was going to be okay. I am never again going to wish that I could hurl "Fix it please" into a trash can so that I wouldn't have to puzzle through the plot weirdness possessed by all vintage "Sesame Street" books. Why isn't Luis happy about having paying customers in the Fix-It Shop? Isn't that a thriving small business?

But I'm not ready to say goodbye to our very own copies of those books. I've decided it's okay. By some HGTV show, it's absolutely time to purge those books. It is time to get rid of them.

Except it's not. There are many ways of finding the right time to say goodbye to possessions. I currently have a trunk full of donations for Goodwill, mainly small children's toys. I have two boxes of books for the preschool book sale and two boxes to take to our local bookstore to sell. No one is coming to film "Hoarders" here. It's okay. The right time will come to pass these battered books on, and I'll know it when it gets here.

For now, these books possess me.