I keep everything. I don't like to label myself a "packrat" because of the implied disorganization. I don't have everything cataloged, but I'm organized. I can tell you exactly where the kids' dried up bellybuttons are or where the empty first can of beer I ever drank is. Yes, I kept the kids bellybuttons, and the bandaids from their first shots, and my positive pregancy tests (nasty!) I also keep the usual things, like hospital bracelets, cards, concert ticket stubs, and crafts that Thing One makes. In my defense, I've actually met one other mom who kept her kids bellybuttons, so I don't feel too creepy.

I did NOT get this sappiness from my mom. She throws out everything. If I have any mementos left over from my childhood, it must be because my dad pulled them out of the trash! I had a beloved bear that I slept with every night when I was little. He was aptly, if not creatively named Mr. Bear. He was crocheted and full of stuffing. As I snuggled with him every night, the crochet sticthes stretched and the stuffing became dense and settled at the bear's feet, leaving the rest of the him all limpy. If I didn't mention it already, I loved, loved, loved that bear. One night when I was going to bed, I asked my mom to bring me Mr. Bear. Unfortunately, Mr. Bear had apparently bought the farm and was no longer with us. By this I mean she thre him away. To this day, when I razz my mom about it, she says, "well, it was falling apart." Well, yeah - because I loved the hell out of it!

I really owe my mom a nice post, because anyone who reads this is going to totally think she's horrible! She can't be judged on this one incident. Seriously, my mom is the best. She's sweet, loving and nurturing and one of my best friends - she just doesn't share my nostalgic tendancies!