stuff gets old

For the past eleven years, TEC and I have been deep in a stage of life where we have bounced from one significant, life-altering change to another.   Getting married started it all rolling: the first apartment, the graduation, the first real job(s), the first move and first time on our own...  Soon after, we had our first child, our first home, more children, new jobs, more moves...

The interesting thing about most of these big life changes is that they have seemed to accompany the accumulation of new stuff.  We had the wedding gifts, the purchase/finding of some basic furniture, the baby showers.  A new house usually meant more space and, slowly but surely, more stuff: refrigerator, washer/dryer, lawnmower, etc.  A third child added another carseat to the mix, driving the purchase a minivan.  As the kids started growing, we found ourselves once again in the market for more stuff: new, different kinds of carseats, bigger furniture, bunk beds...

We've been swimming in this stage of "needing" and acquiring for eleven years now.  It's been justifiable and, as I think back on it, I'll admit, it's been fun.

Now we're beginning to come back up to the surface.  We've reached a point where we've run out of reasons to acquire new stuff.  It's a new feeling for us.  In fact, not too long ago, we started browsing the housing market simply because that's what our family's done so far once we've been in one place for as long as we've been here--it felt strange to not have a reason to be moving on to something new (we've since labeled it the "three year itch").  It was about that time that TEC received a church calling for which our family made a commitment to stay put for a while.  We're getting used to seeing our long term with more of a "here" mentality and there is certainly a lot of good that comes with that mentality.  But there's also a hard truth that I'm slowly coming to understand at this particular stage of life:

Stuff gets old.

For the first time, I'm experiencing the downhill portion of the ride, where it seems that everywhere I turn, I'm finding something broken, stained, dented, falling apart, etc.  When you stick with stuff long enough, you become associated with all the wrinkles: Has that crack always been there?  I guess we'd better do something about that plumbing issue.  Oh, look--here's another random plastic piece that has broken off something or other in our not-so-new-anymore minivan.

You start to think long and hard about what you have and what you need, because there's not a clear rest area up ahead where you'll get to pull over and exchange all your old stuff for stuff that is new, not broken, or simply more your style.  No one throws you a "Now-That-You've-Been-Married-for-15-Years Shower" (though, that would be nice).

I think, for the most part, I'm okay with having stuff that is old.  My kids are still young enough that I wouldn't trust them with a dream house full of all new stuff.  I live life much more at ease knowing that the couch is already broken, the rug is already stained, etc.  Still, I think it's natural to want to have an attractive home and to feel like you and your children are somewhat up-to-date on style.  Additionally, I find it hard to not play the comparison game as I look around at some people, many my same age, who somehow manage to maintain designer homes and portrait-ready families.  The old adage: "Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without" almost needs footnote these days: "but don't let it look like you do."

I hope I can avoid the trap of thinking my well-being or happiness depends on what stuff I do or don't acquire.  I'm grateful to have stuff, to be able to live as comfortably as we do, and of course, I'm grateful for the more important things in life that make all this "stuff" talk seem silly.  

It will be interesting to see where this "new" relationship with our old stuff leads.  What will see us through to the next big life stages.  What will we lay to rest along the way?  Will we be able to make wise decisions and find an appropriate balance when it comes to acquiring, making do and doing without?  What will our kids remember, and what lessons will they learn in this process?  Time will tell.