I use to hoard. Places like Costcos? Made for (the old) me. Even now, when I'm at my mom's, or going through an unopened box in our basement storage, I will find an unopened bottle of shampoo, a brand new notebook, a box of unused pens (stationery has always been my Waterloo), half or quarter used bottles of lotion, face wash, etc... It hasn't helped that I've lived in several countries and several states over the past 10 years. I'm a fast packer but a far slower unpacker, there's always a stray unopened box that contains some sooner-or-later essential that I end up restocking.
I've been trying desperately, since Kali was born, to cure myself of my frightful hoarding. I'm now religious about purging, especially papers. When reading a magazine, I'll take quick notes, but then it's into the recycling bin. When I get the chance to read a book, and if it doesn't strike me as keep-worthy (a much higher standard now), it goes into the donation/swap pile, I've started to work through the boxes of unused stationery goods instead of buying new ones. I've also been medieval with my clothing. I've edited down what once would have filled an entire walk in closet (and then some) down to one smallish closet and one large underbed storage drawer (well, two officially, one for winter, one for summer).
But it has been an unsatisfying, sisyphean task. Whatever gains I make on my side is constantly being neutralized by J and the girls. J is a srsly crazy hoarder (I blame it on his Mom, who really elevates hoarding to a sport). J only marginally hoards material goods - he hardly has any material desires - but as an academic, he hoards books, papers, magazines, papers. He has one of those professorial offices whose number we dare not mention - you know the kind. He literally has a small swath of floor to walk through to get from the door to his desk, outlined by stacks upon stacks upon stacks of books and papers (despite the fact that two walls of his office are lined with floor to ceiling shelves, which are, incidentally, completely full). And whereas once, as a beginning academic, his office contained his madness, now that he's had 6/7 years of teaching under his belt, with all the incidental new purchases, new works and old hand-me-downs, his work has spilled into our home life. For example, we have a small, unused corner in our living room, where I used to breast-feed when the Kali was a baby. The rocker, and the entire surrounding area has now been infiltrated by folders, tons of old newspaper, stacks of books, and various other academe sundries.
It is driving me INSANE.
And I am expressly forbidden from touching any of J's "work". Oh, and don't think that he doesn't notice. Just yesterday, he came home and looked on our desk and noticed that a pile of his correspondence had been moved from the middle off to the left side. Psycho.
But this post is not about J... or at least it was not meant to be. The thing that has me so worked up is the apparently genetic incidence of hoarding. Because Loo (not yet Kali)... well, she has taken up hoarding with a passion.
It's a habit of hers that I've been subconsciously aware of for a while. For a while, I would take it upon myself to sit with their toys in the wee hours of the night to "edit" out the broken, the age-inappropriate, the mis-matched, the general "yechs". Loo had not yet learned the fine art of categorization, so missing toys have generally gone unnoticed, until their dense excuse of a father mentions an edited toy for no apparent reason. Alas, the time of the short memory span has come and gone.
What really brought Loo's hoarding to the forefront for me was going through her pictures on my computer last night. That's when I noticed that in many of her pictures, she is clutching some coveted found "thing" that would ultimately wind up at home with us, in her toy box (until one of my edits). From the pool, she's found lost balls, discarded bottles, broken necklaces, all of which she lovingly collects and obligingly brings home. At the zoo, she found a pair of 3D glasses (one of those wear and toss kinds) that is now in our toy box. She has a broken car that we found when watching the Memorial Day parade, a natty beach ball that was found at the beach this weekend. And it's all documented on film!
Loo also clings, valiantly, to her possessions. She asked for a spiderman figurine sometime last year when the latest spiderman movie came out. Since acquiring said figurine, it has: lost its legs, its head, lost two of the three accompanying spider web accessories. And she refuses to let me toss the sad, sad spidey torso. With arms. What a grotesque testament to a her possession obsession.
I am dreading the day when her little sister follows suit.
Fellow hoarder here! And don't touch my stuff!
Actually, I've gotten so much better about pitching things now that we have kids, but like you, my kids are adding to it. Our 10 y.o. daughter is a major hoarder (the hubby is defiantly NOT, btw). She would collect pieces of wrapping paper, strings, "special" bottle caps, etc., like Templeton the Rat. Finally about 4 mos. ago we told her she needed to box and bag things that she didn't use but that were taking up a lot of space in her room (unders the auspices of welcoming new, more grown up things and also not having stuff that attracts spiders). Oh lord, it took her WEEKS, but she did it. She kept some things and tossed a lot others.
We recently saw a documentary on the Discovery Channel (I think) about crazy old adult hoarders, and my daughter recognized that that's the path she was on!
Posted by: dgm | August 21, 2008 at 03:44 PM