Lately I've been committed to tackling one thing a day in my house. There are certain jobs that I avoid at all costs, like the linen cupboard, that far corner of my kitchen counter, my sewing table, anything that lives under the couch... I could come up with plenty of excuses, and usually do, about why I avoid these things like the plague. But really I just haven't had the fortitude to deal with it... until now.
Today, during Kitty Bill's nap, I set the girls up at the table with some drawing materials and drinks and dove head first into the pile formerly known as my desk. It is the main dumping ground for lost art and broken toys. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here, or something like that. It was really a mess, but I won't get into that. It's better now. Not perfect, not finished, but I can see relative deskness. Hurrah! Hurrah!
In doing this great task, I feel like I can also see the surface of my brain. Very therapeutic this desk-cleaning business. But now I seem to have uncovered this enormous amount of artwork created by my wonderfully artistic and prolific children. Piles and piles and piles of it. A forest worth of paper in all shapes, hues, and sizes.
What do you do with this stuff? Do you throw it away when they're asleep? Do you scan it all in? Do you faithfully bind it up in booklets? Do you box it up and stick it in the attic? Do you wallpaper the entire house, including ceilings? Do you date it, and press it, and coddle it for the rest of their lives?
What do YOU do with your piles?