The sin of pride.

Before I had Edie, and even during those first weeks, I thought private, smug thoughts to myself about how I would be reasonable about the amount of stuff she had. No toys strewn throughout the house, no mountains of clothes. Not me. I was going to take all of the praise-worthy minimalism of the Amish and mix it with my otherwise dashing and modern lifestyle. Lookit me. I exist outsides the grasp of materialism. Lah-dee-dah.

Well, today, let's just say that I am not going to go into how many pairs of pants my daughter owns. Do I blame the grandmas in part for this clothes explosion? Sure I do, because blame takes it off of my shoulders. But deep down I know that I am an enabler. As far as the toys go, well, see for yourself. Yikes. So many that a "play zone" had to be erected in our no-longer-so-adult-nor-minimalist living room.

I no longer fear the toys the way I did. I can now see how wonderful it is for baby and mom to have stimulating, fun activities around. But I am trying to stay mindful of our possessions, lest abundance turn into gluttony and the focus shift from enjoying what we have to pining for what we do not.

Enter Christmas. This will be Edie's first Christmas, and we are so looking forward to it. She will be 11 months old and we have family coming from overseas to celebrate. Will there be presents for the baby? Of course. But if I have it my way, none will be from her parents. Aunt Gretchen, Amma & Avi, and Grandma & Grandpa are all sure to contribute gifts that will overwhelm and entrance the baby. I don't think we need to add to it this time around. My sweet, sentimental husband is having a hard time with this. But I think I will prevail via peaceful protest (one must procure a gift to have a gift to give... and if none are so procured ....).

So no Christmas gifts from us for the little one this year. But as I look upon E's toy village, I promise you, I am not smug about this fact.