Bunch of Junk

Sometimes I am grateful for hereditary things. Sometimes I'm not. 
Mostly I am not so grateful that I inherited a lot of my momma's health issues. Other than that, I think my parents did a good job of not being too insane so I ended up a-okay. 
Today I am grateful that I inherited my mom's love of organization. Now, I may not be quite as...passionate, as she is, but I have learned a lot of things that keep me sane in my life.
Rule #1 of organization: Stuff is not important. It is just stuff. 
Growing up my mom would periodically bring large trash bags into our room and tell us to get rid of stuff we didn't play with, never wore, hated, etc. While siblings weren't allowed in the bag, we did a pretty good job of keeping our stuff to a minimum. It also helped that we moved a lot. Moving makes you realize that you have a bunch of junk that you never use/never knew you had/forgot about and that now is the perfect time to toss it since you don't want to haul it around. Unfortunately, Tyson does not share this perspective. I am a DI queen! EVERYTHING TO DI! Tyson wants to keep stuff "just in case". I don't really get it but I try to be understanding and end up compensating by getting rid of more of my stuff. Now that we're expecting a baby I have gone into full DI mode because now we have to make room for a baby. In the last hour I have gone through our kitchen and office and removed a bunch o' junk from those rooms and relocated it to the kitchen table. Tyson will have a say but I will hopefully convince him that we don't need my old electric blanket because I have HIM to keep me warm at night. Him and about a zillion other blankets. 
What I wish I would have been taught is when is it okay to get rid of things that have significance to other people? Sounds weird but I was given some stuff for my wedding that belonged to my great grandmother and while I appreciate the sentiment I don't know what I will do with some of it. I'm not talking about jewelry or anything. Specifically a round metal case...thing. Sorta like a box but maybe "tin" would be a better word choice. The thing has to be like ninety years old and it belonged to my grandmother but I don't really like it and I don't use it. It's been sitting on my bedroom floor haunting me since July. I finally took the stuff out of it and I even wore some of the old-school jewelry to church. But that dang tin. I feel bad for wanting to get rid of it because I feel like it should matter but the things inside it meant a lot more to me than the container. 
Getting rid of junk brings me a sense of newness. I can move on from the stuff. I don't want to be like Madame Blueberry and require stuff! Say no to the Stuff-mart!! Whenever I go shopping I think "Oh, I would like that. That'd be nice to have...NO! I don't need it! I'll never use it! Run away!" It's a good strategy. But it makes setting up a baby registry difficult.