In the holidays we saw Toy Story 3, it's lots of fun and was enjoyed by all.Being a somewhat emotional movie watcher, I found myself in tears at various points. Those other mothers out there might have felt the same watching Andy's mother look at his empty bedroom as he prepares to leave for college. While I am easily 15+ years away from such an event, I can certainly conjure the emotion.
However, the other reason for the tears is a little more embarrassing. I was one of those children who truly believed my stuffed animals were real (a little like Blue Kangaroo, which I reviewed on Monday). I had to play with them fairly and evenly so that no-one felt left out. Different ones had to come on different holidays so they all had some time with just me on their own. Having said that though, we all have favourites. Here are most of mine:
I could bore you with stories about them all, when I was given them, their names, how one of them is actually #3 because #1 & #2 got lost twice in hotel laundry (all that white).
However, here is my dilemma - I still sort of feel this way... and now thanks to Toy Story 3, I am in a bind...
- We used to have a whole lot of stuffed animals in a box. Then I felt guilty that they were in storage. So I got them all out.
- I asked our daycare if they wanted the OK ones, they said no (too many already).
- Thanks to the final garbage compactor scenario in the movie I cannot throw them out.
- I don't really want to put them in the Salvos bin because as they are quite old they will probably end up in the real bin. (interestingly I am more than happy to purge the house of the kids' rejected stuffed toys!)
- The main teddy bear which I still have in our bedroom on a shelf - now I feel like he is left out sitting on the shelf without the other toys.
- In the end, they have been merged into the kids' toys, awaiting a decision at a later date.
However, I have shared with you my sad dilemma - I am surrounded by my childhood toys and unable to remove them from my presence. I know it's probably the memories that bind me to them, but maybe, just maybe, they might miss me as much as I would miss them...
We moved a lot when I was little, including country to country. So my toys were a constant in a changing world. One in particular - Kanga. I kept about 6 in a box that survived into my adulthood. And then when we moved house last year, I took the final plunge and threw out (I know! But they were too tatty to send to the Salvos) all but one. Kanga sits up high in our wardrobe. I won't let the children play with her in case they break her. She's mine. Always will be. Faithful friend. You can't throw out something that's been bathed in that much love. So I hear you.
ReplyDeleteWow - you ARE a fruitcake! But one that I love very much!
ReplyDeleteAnd I, too, struggle to handover the special things from my childhood. I gave 2 soft toys (white polar bears like yours) to Amy - they are now her favourites, and my "Amy" Doll (I picked the name when I was 3 years old) I gave to Laura, though she was somewhat indifferent (possibly because of the name!). And last night Amy started reading MY copy of Anne of Green Gables!