I received an e-mail from a friend a few nights ago that brought me back to summer vacation, almost five years ago. Not to the beaches or sitting in a hammock reading, or to introducing B to his extended family for the first time. But to a time when I was in judgment of my sister’s behavior. Toward a book.
The e-mail: “Do you save the dust jackets that come with your children’s books? I take them off because I know they’re going to just get ripped. But then I have no idea what to do with them…”
Around the time that Sarah’s oldest son Jamis turned 2 and my oldest was a few months old I watched her remove the dust jacket from a brand-new hardcover picture book, throw it in the garbage and hand the book to Jamis. I remember this so clearly that I can see her open the trash can lid while balancing Jamis on her hip. And I can feel the same shock and puzzlement I felt upon seeing this very strange occurrence. Books to me are sacred. I could not imagine why in the world she would do this. I didn’t say a thing. I don’t know why, but it probably had to do with needing to nurse the baby or the fact that there were a ton of people and balloons around for Jamis’s b’day. The scene passed through my mind a few times over the next several months, but I gave the matter no serious thought. I had a new baby and another one on the way already. There were many other things to focus on.
And then, at some time that I cannot pin down during the next few years, I started removing the dust jackets from my own children’s books. In fact, in the kids’ closet, there is a hefty pile of dust jackets. On the top shelf. Awaiting, what? A picture frame? An art project?
I am tempted to say that our approaches to dust-jacket protection (or elimination) probably illustrates quite well a few fundamental differences in Sarah and me. She is carefree. I tend to evaluate to a fault. I hold on to things. She lets go, with the confidence that things are replaceable if she later changes her mind. She is comfortable with her own decisions, even if they are different from everyone else’s. I question myself. Constantly. Wondering if I’m doing the right thing. I mean, is this the right way to phrase this sentence?
I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned to Sarah my utter disbelief (and, honestly, judgment) regarding her treatment of hardcover books. Now we’d both laugh, of course. This is a silly example of the many ways in which, as mothers, we started out on our own paths and have since come together. With the same destination in mind: happiness and success for our children. Regardless of the state of their well-stocked home libraries.
(Any other ideas for those dust jackets? Because, true to myself, I just can’t seem to throw them away. And I couldn’t adequately respond to the e-mail from my friend that brought all of this back!)
Read More in Jen Writes, motherhood, oldest child, sisters
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Um, wow! Wow! What a funny thought to carry in your head all these years. And yes, true to your characterization of me, I’ve forgotten that it even occurred. It was just a moment of necessity at the time. We weren’t at home, where would I put that dust jacket if I’d kept it? I do have these thoughts that push through my brain: you shouldn’t throw “that” away, you could do something “useful” with it (usually meaning some artsy project I’ll never have time for). Dan has rubbed off on me, I think. Over the years I’ve had piles of things to keep, to save, to “DO” with and I’ve learned to let go, even when it’s pained me. His ability to throw things away and move on is sometimes painful for even me to observe. A kid’s school project, the ripped out page from a book. I could do something with that, dammit! I could frame that and it would look sooooo cute in the boys room, wouldn’t it? Just wouldn’t it? But the sanity of my brain has become more important than the “could do’s/would do’s.” I need to rid my house of the odds and ends that stack up on counters and in drawers, on the ironing board, my dresser and my desk, the top of the refrigerator, the bottom of the tv cabinet…everywhere! And yes, I have always been the free spirit of the family. It’s gotten me into a whole heap of trouble though, and now I am happy to say that I am learning how to improve my function of moderation! But the little stacks? They either need to find a home, or find their way in the trash!
Can you come to my house and help me throw AWAY some (most) of the CRAP? Please! I know we’ve talked about it before and I’ve been wimpy. I’m ready now. I promise. Help!!!!
Yes.
wait, let me say that again. imagine great force here…
YESSSSSSSS!
YAY!. OK, now the challenge. Check your calendar (dear). [Love ya, Mom.]
You guys are so cute, talking back and forth like that.
It’s interesting what we get hung up on as moms, and it’s always something little like a dust cover. I keep mine in hopes of placing them back on the book one day. Maybe it’s a fantasy.
Wallpaper?
Laminated – placemats. Am I thinking too much about this now?