I'm not Sentimental.
Probably to a fault. For example, just three days ago, during my frenzied, post-holiday cleaning purge, I asked David to haul away an antique rocking chair.
"I bought you that for our first anniversary!" he intoned, knowing fully that such reasoning would have zero affect on my desire to see it move on to a new place.
It's probably not a great personal quality, overall, so I don't want to sound hoity-toity about it. It just is. I yam what I yam. I don't expect anyone to keep all the crap I've knit them, for instance.
However, in the past year or so, there have been small sparks of sentimentality starting to fire in my brain, and this is mainly in relation to my youngest, Simon, who is about to turn 7 in a couple months. For some reason, I can't say no to him when he occasionally still asks to drink from a sippy cup (I know, shut up), or he wants me to lay down with him at bedtime, or especially if he asks me for a new stuffie.
Oh, a stuffie, you ask?
A stuffie is Simon's term for his stuffed animals (something I find adorable) and I just want to say that I take his devotion to his stuffies very seriously, and it recently occurred to me that THIS may be the last time he ever asks for a stuffed animal. So I got him an adorable little stuffed raccoon for Christmas this year, which he named Rascal.
Rascal is soft and fluffy and is quickly becoming a favorite. The fact that this was likely the last Christmas that I'd buy any of my kids stuffed animals hit me like a gut punch, and also happened to coincide with another one of those childhood milestones--the losing of the two front teeth--and I knew I needed to document both with photos.
Then I thought, "Wouldn't it be nice to take photos of kids with their favorite stuffed animals?" Heck yes, it'd be nice. It'd be great! Document that stuff, I always say.
So, I'm going to offer some Stuffie Sessions. I think they'll be a fun way to cherish that little bond that kids have with their toys. Details forthcoming!
