Letting Go of Dinosaurs

Of course, I want my kiddo to grow and expand his world. A part of that growth process is letting go, which can take time and be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster…for his mother.

My son, “A” is six years old. He is known among the elementary school set for his capital L love of dinosaurs. His kindergarten teachers told me that when they had questions about dinosaurs on their field trip to the Natural History Museum, they asked A. (Between you and me, if he doesn’t know the answers, he makes them up, and speaks with such conviction you believe every word.) When he graduated from preschool, he was the only kiddo allowed to take home his favorite dinosaur toy, an allosaurus. Shhh! That’s a secret.

Dino clothes, dino wallpaper, dino lunchboxes, dino songs in the car, dino everything. Dinos have been a part of his identity for more than two thirds of his life.

A few days ago, he decided not to wear his dino hat, a hat he’s worn every time he’s left the house for over four years. (It’s the fourth version of the exact same hat that I’ve been replacing since he was two years old.) Within two days his proclamation came: “You can put my dinos in storage. I can’t think of any more ways to play with them. I’m more into Pokémon now.”

There must’ve been a thud when my jaw hit the floor because he repeated himself, this time apologetically. Not one of my finer moments as a mom. I want him to feel supported in his growth, even if there is a new T-rex shaped hole in my heart.

It feels like the end of an era, and I know this is going to happen a dozen more times with a dozen other interests as he grows, but man this is rough. I am actually going to miss those dinos!

Now, I’ll admit, the Virgo in me is excited to be clearing space in his small bedroom. But a part of my mama heart breaks a little with each dino I pack.

I also must admit that prior to this, I was beginning to worry that A was becoming a person who has a hard time letting go of stuff (i.e. toys he’s outgrown). In my panic, amidst visions of a child hoarder situation dancing around in my head, I found this great article on helping kids learn to let go of stuff. I’m saving it just in case, and sharing it HERE, should you ever find yourself needing some advice in this area. I think these strategies could work for anyone, regardless of age.

By the way, the dinos may be on their way to storage, but A says he still wants to be a paleontologist. For now.

Also, here’s something I keep learning, over and over again: Having children is one big exercise in letting go.

Maybe it’s throwing something out, donating it, or finding a better way to store it that minimizes clutter, and in doing so makes you feel a little lighter. Is there one thing you can let go of, or minimize the footprint of, in your home or workspace, this week?

I’m a contact lens wearer, and in July I switched to dailies rather than monthlies. I figured, it’s summer and since we’re in our Summer of Swimming, I’m pretty likely to forget to take my lenses out at some point and I’d rather lose a lens I was going to toss at the end of the day anyway than a precious lens that’s meant to last 30 days.

Add to which, A goes back to school in September. I’m not sure if first graders are old enough to have aged out of the barrage of illnesses that get passed around in the fall. And as with toothbrushes and mascara, * once you catch some wacky cold or virus, you have to toss your lenses. Better to toss dailies.

I had been storing the new lenses in the boxes they came in, which were a pain to open and dig around in every morning and then put back somewhat neatly. Different prescription for each eye + a six-month supply = multiple boxes. We have open shelving in the master bath (which I’m not a fan of), and the brightly colored, bulky, half torn boxes didn’t lend to the tranquil vibe I’m going for in there. So, I got a canister. Now my lenses are consolidated, and I just lift the lid grab what I need. And while I was at it, I got a matching canister for my retainer cleaning tablets.

Bye-bye unsightly boxes and wasted time! When you’re trying to get going in the morning, every second you save equals another peaceful sip of coffee before your day begins. It adds up.

*I never actually toss my mascara because of an illness. That sh%$’s expensive!

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