I should also add books to my long list of "I-wanna-hang-on-to-these-forever-because-they're-sentimental" items. We are in the process of transitioning our two youngest boys to bunk beds, so that calls for shifting and rearranging the bedroom that they share.
Their book shelf had been busting at the seams for many years. It only ever held about two-thirds of their books at any given moment, which meant anything that didn't fit in it ended up on the floor around it. It was constantly exploding books. We were forced to cram and push and fight and then throw up our hands as books tumbled back out.
With the bunk bed arrival days away, I was forced to do some major cleaning and purging over the past weekend. My attempt to tackle that daunting book shelf began like this:
Me: "I seriously don't know what to do with all these books."
Mark: "We should just get rid of the ones the kids don't need."
Me: (Big gasp) "How could you say that? We can't get rid of books! I think we just need a bigger shelf."
Mark: "That's insane. It's not a solution. We are not buying a bigger shelf to fill with more books. We need to go through these books, take out ones the kids don't read anymore and only keep the ones we need."
While I don't always admit it in the heat of the moment, my husband does have really strong sensibilities and quite often is...right. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt this time and see if I could actually find any books in this gigantic pile that we didn't need. Not likely. As I stated to him earlier, all books are necessary.
I sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of the book shelf, which rests in the cramped corner between the closet and our sons' current trundle bed. Slowly and deliberately, I began to slide books off the shelf. One at a time, I contemplated their value.
What I noticed was a huge portion of our children's books had been ripped and torn and worn to shreds. Obviously read a thousand times, they had been immensely loved. Cherished. Needed. Several of the important books had been around since before Reese was born, as they were presented to us during our baby shower. While our little guy was nestled warmly in my belly twelve years ago, our friends and family members carefully chose books for us to begin our first home library. For those of you reading this, please know, your books were meaningful, impactful and valuable to all of us. They served each baby well!
The time had actually come to clear the shelf of books that had fallen apart. Why hadn't I seen how many we had until now? (Probably because when it's time for bed and the boys choose books, they never bring us the ratty baby books). Those books had been taking up real estate on their three-tiered book shelf, and since we already decided a bigger space wasn't an option, I owed it to our growing boys to make room for their current interests.
Looking back through our tattered board books was like opening a time capsule. I envisioned myself sitting in our rocking chair, which has been perched in our many different homes, reading bedtime stories to whichever babies and toddlers were sprawled out on my lap. I felt the urge to pay each book a proper farewell, rubbing my hands across the covers of the ones that were favorites to each child and to me. I was able to tell Mark exactly where every book originated.
I breezed through the pages of these baby books, able to recite the words from memory. I lifted the flaps on the Karen Katz books, which had thrilled all of our babies to no end. As I came across Brown Bear, Brown Bear, I could hear Reese's little boy laughter as Mark always read that book with silly voices. I pulled out a tiny tea party book that reminded me of the days when my tiny Trixie dressed in princess gowns every day and asked us to call her Cinderella. The Very Hungry Caterpillar had appeared to have actually eaten his way through half the pages of our book, but Chip and Marshall had devoured it so many times, it was worth it.
Mark listened to me elaborate about why each book was important to us. To me. When I had trouble letting one go, I quietly slipped it back onto the shelf. Some of them were still in excellent shape, but I wasn't ready to pass them on yet. I'm sure I'll be ready the next time I do a book shelf purge, like when they start middle school. Time will tell.
Until then, I'm happy to report that the shelf is finally organized, leaving room for the more appropriate and more adventurous books that Marshall and Chip will be reading in the future.
Are you attached to books as well? Your own or your children's? It's difficult to explain the feelings to someone who doesn't experience them, but if you do, you just know. Maybe it's time for a spring cleaning of your books, too.
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