Don't leave me.

Slowly but surely I've been moving through our house, room by room, closet by closet, to do some serious purging.  If you know me well then you know how much I love to hang on to stuff.  Just in case. When we started our basement reno last year I began a big clean out and every once in awhile I get back in the mood and I get rid of some more.

Recently I found these little gems in one of my drawers.

Originally there were more of them but, for whatever reason, these ones were in their own little pile of memories.

Eight years ago these adorned my front door.  At the eye level of a five year old, these were the last things that Sheldon saw when he left for school in the mornings.

He was the kid who hated being left at school.  He hated being left at the sitters.  He hated being left anywhere.  But, as all parents find out, five minutes after leaving your crying child anywhere, they forget all their troubles and have a great day.  If you're really lucky then they kick up a fuss when you pick them up too.  My dream day (and I had many):  screaming tears to bookend sun up and sun down.  Lovely.

These colourful shapes were our answer to getting him to school happy.  He told me what he liked about school, I wrote it down and stuck it on the door, and then every morning he had a reminder of how great his day would be.  Did it work?  Sometimes, maybe.  Honestly, I can't remember.

Eight years ago he didn't want me to leave him.  Today he hesitates to go anywhere with me.

Sigh.