A million little pieces

I have just spent the better part of an hour organizing Bee's toys. It has become a nightly ritual: after Bee has had her bath, and story, and last drink of water, and requests for specific stuffed animals (she has been sleeping with an entire zoo recently) she quiets down and I set about putting everything to rights.  

We have a spacious apartment, but it is filled to capacity. Every drawer, cabinet, shelf, nook and cranny is filled with stuff.  Consequently, things don't just get messy around our apartment--left unchecked, they explode onto any available surface.  

I am constantly battling against the surge of Abigail's "kitchen center" play area into the rest of the living room.  She has enough wooden fruits and vegetables to feed an army of dolls, a herd of stuffed animals that I am certain breed in captivity, and so many books, well, I will make no excuses for her board book collection--there is no English language library for several hundred miles, so I had to bring my own with me.  

I love Bee's toys. She has the exalted status of being the first grandchild and great grandchild on both sides of our family.  She is spoiled rotten, but fortunately, most people buy her the kinds of presents that promote imagination and learning, as opposed to "made in China" whiz-bang electronic crap.  

Her birthday present from me arrived today. She doesn't turn two until the fall, but I wanted to get her this particular doll.  She is absolutely perfect, and I hid her away for the time being.  It's one more thing to add to the treasure trove of toys that dominates our apartment, but I just couldn't help myself.