TheWife and LatteGirl were going through LatteGirl’s room looking for books and toys and such that are no longer actively played with. The “baby toys” if you will. Now up until recently, LatteGirl has been quite resistant to parting with virtually anything at all. Not only for wanting to play with them (or claiming she does, despite them just sitting in the corner or on a shelf), but in some cases she had tied memories to certain items (“Remember when I won this at the carnival?”). This changed slightly earlier this year when she discovered her love of cash. The thought of ringing up some money to put in her banks softened her grip on some things and she began willing to part with some things with the express purpose of selling them at a yard sale.
Now, thanks to unfortunate timing, we had the yard sale planned the same weekend TheWife’s step father passed away, and rather than rescheduling the sale, we donated all of the items we were going to sell to the local church that was going to be having a rummage sale. We promised LatteGirl some new toys as well as cash (the cash she got, the toys not quite yet). She was satisfied with the solution, but was clearly disappointed that she didn’t get to go through the motions of actually selling it.
So after that, I sort of expected her to re-tighten her grip on things, and did not expect to see much coming out this time through. This was purely for donation, and there was no cash incentive involved, though TheWife did sort of hint to her that Santa Claus might be a bit more generous if he new she had a place for all the new stuff. But still, like me she has tended to be a pack-rat, and I thought that would continue to hold.
Imagine my surprise when I started seeing bag after bag being placed out in the hallway for me to bring out to the car. I was just completely stunned. Toys of all shapes and sizes, books… some like some “board books” that we had been begging her for ages to get rid of to free up shelf space, Dora things, Blues Clues. Then the biggest shock of all, dolls. Not all of them. She still has her primary “family” of babies, but some of the ones that she never played with, went.
It was about half way through this process, while bringing out another bag, TheWife still in shock from how much they were finally able to agree on getting rid of announced in a quite sullen tone, “She has officially become a “tween” today.” The look of disdain on my face must have been quite clear as she continued, “I know, I know… don’t say it. Just accept it.”
And from the looks of her room, I guess it is true. Winnie The Pooh replaced by Hannah Montana. A draw full of assorted little baby blankets, and accessories to her “baby toys” replaced by nail polish, combs, brushes, head bands, and scrunchies. She offered to get rid of her Barbie Laptop, but only in exchange for a real one. She began exclaiming how many of her friends already have cell phones. And that she thinks needs a phone like a Pink Razor, not one of those “silly ones” like the Migo or the Firefly. (And for the record, NO! I can see no reason for ANY seven… fine… seven and a half year old to have a mobile phone).
I always wondered how people decide when their child becomes a “tween” Now I know. I don’t like it. I am not ready for this yet. I was (as I always seem to be) sure that I had more time before we hit this. But no, it seems to be here… like it or not.