Of course it has become a problem because I don't even have space for one extra fleece hoodie, let alone the eleventy-six masterpieces she generates at preschool and our kitchen table on a weekly basis.
My unsentimental yet practical solution is typically to photograph my favorites, keep them around for a few weeks, and then introduce them to the recycle bin. You know, move it on through.
But every now and then something will crash past my practical exterior and into my soft, gushy heart. It happened just last week with this one particular piece. I discovered it when I carted The Edge into his room for a diaper change.
There, propped up next to his little diaper caddy, she had left a beautiful, crayon-drawn picture of The Edge, wearing a striped shirt and shoes. (Note: if you look carefully, you will see that Peapod's artwork gives away The Edge's real name, as Peapod wrote it above the drawing of her brother.)
I set The Poopy Edge back down and took the picture to Peapod to ask about it.
"Can you tell me about this picture, Sweet Pea?"
"That's The Edge." She stated matter-of-factly and with no sentimentality whatsoever. "I drew it for my brother."
The next day I spent 20 extra minutes in Target, looking for push pins so I could hang the picture in The Edge's room, where I could look at for all eternity. Or at least until Peapod draws an even better masterpiece of her brother.
Oh, and I changed The Edge's diaper, too, by the way.