Why is it that whenever I clean my kids' room, I find all kinds of things to get rid of?
I spent the afternoon a couple days ago cleaning my whole house. The first things I found to get rid of were these obviously no longer useful items:
Alex melted my water bottle in the dishwasher. I'm still mad. Quinn got this little lunchbox as a reward for pooping in the potty. Not three hours later, someone stepped on it.
A big part of what I got rid of in this batch is that pile of workbooks. I have a hard time getting rid of them, but once they've been worked in once, twice, or three times, they're not super useful. Included in the photo is also of a stack of old children's magazines as well as a few books they've outgrown or outright wrecked. Also some other stuff. You have eyes, right?
I've also recently given away two shirts. To the same girl.
The yellow one was originally intended for Quinn because he only wears yellow shirts. But he's scared of this shirt. Lunatic. At least somebody likes it.
I gave the red shirt to the little girl because I was babysitting her and, while she was sitting in the same room as me, she ate the top of a pink marker stamp. I didn't see her eat it (she's sneaky, really; I'm a great babysitter) so I panicked when she started spitting out bright pink drool. For a split second I thought something was hemorrhaging.
Thank God she'd only, you know, gnawed off the top of a marker. (Maybe I'm not such a great babysitter after all.)
Anyway, I had to change her shirt. And (see above) Quinn only wears yellow shirts. So to apologize for nearly choking/poisoning their daughter, I let the little girl's parents keep the shirt.
Total items in this batch: 44