The other day, I started on an ambitious project. I decided that I was going to get rid of all the junk lying around my house and in my crawl space. I was going to clean out each kid's closet and donate all their outgrown clothes.

"Simplified Living!" I announced on my Facebook profile.

One of my friends responded with a chuckle and a sneer.

That should have been a sign.

I decided to tackle the office first. I have a closet filled with shelves stacked with toys. I work in early intervention and some of the toys are from my kids in their birth to three stage.

The previous owner was a an attorney, and she kept her files on the shelves. One of the shelves was slightly bent from the weight of all those files. The shelf is filled with board games--many are games that I planned to sit down and play with my kids, someday. We've used them here and there, but not as much as I thought I would when I bought each of them. My kids never took off with Cranium or Congo; instead, they played with Monopoly and Scrabble--games from my own childhood. The Great States game was used over and over. They recently discovered Pictionary, a game that I loved to play in college.

I had every intention of being brutal while going through the closet and getting rid of everything that I wasn't using on a regular basis.

I came across the box of 3D wooden ABC letters. My mind wandered back to the first day they arrived in the mail. The letters were enclosed in a wooden box, which was cracked. I notified the company and they promptly sent another box--filled with a second set of letters. I taught each of my kids the alphabet with those wooden alphabet shapes. They learned to fingerspell each letter back to me. Their first words were spelled out on the floor during quiet time with each of them. I couldn't bear to part with them.

I'll hand them down to my grandchildren! I said to myself. The pink basket with the wooden letters was set aside.

Then there was the Stack 'n Play set from Discovery Toys. The set was complete, except I couldn't find the blue plastic stacking cup. I remembered seeing it in a box downstairs and made a mental note to find it. I couldn't donate it with a missing piece, could I?

Then there were the Magic Reader books. My youngest son struggled with reading. He connected with the Magic Reader books. The Magic Moon Machine was his favorite book. Over and over we read and signed the book.

I couldn't break up the collection. The entire stack of Magic Reader books sat in a plastic bin, waiting to go back into the closet.

The plastic food. I have an entire bin of plastic food that is so realistic and cool. The store that sold it went out of business. I even used the plastic food when teaching food signs at the local college. The stuff has been washed and bleached so many times but it still looks brand new.

What if I go back to teaching, I told myself. I set the bin next to the wooden letters. In a pile near the corner, was a teddy bear that my Mom bought my oldest kiddo when he was a baby. I was planning to do Memory Boxes for each kid with some of their special things.

You know. Someday. When I have more time.

At the end of the day, I had two bags filled and ready to go.

Unfortunately, the closet is pretty full.

Letting go of childhood is hard.