when Birdie was in 3 year old preschool, I saved every thing she brought home. any piece of scrap paper she used the scissors on, any scribbling, any attempt at writing...literally everything. then I ended up going through it all and tossing about 90%. I saved the adorable things that I knew she'd look back at and smile, but honestly, we don't have the space or the need to save a year's worth of random papers.
this year she brings home an average of 5 papers a night and on average, I toss about 5 papers a night. I always make sure to comment on how well she has done on her work and ask her questions about it, but then (unless it's baby book worthy) I put it in the trash. *I am actually feeling such a pang of guilt just typing this that I don't if I can post it*
more times than I can remember though, Birdie will go to throw something out, catch a glimpse of one of her "works", fish the papers out of the garbage, and demand to know: WHO DID THIS?
I've explained to her that we only save the really special pages or pictures, but she'd prefer we kept it all. well yesterday, as I putting something in the trash, one of these works caught my eye.
at the top it says: Draw something you are thankful for. and...there we are. her dad drawn per the usual with a black 'fro, dressed head to toe in solid black; me with my flowing long blonde hair, a crown atop, and the biggest smile ever; then there's Mais, Eenie, and the kicker (and tearjerker for me) her baby brother. tiny, leaning in on Eenie and dressed all in blue. and there's the sun smiling down on us all.
don't smile at me, sun. I don't deserve it. I feel awful.