Before Brian and I got married, I had a collection of apples. I am a teacher, after all, and apples are the international collection of teachers everywhere.
After I became a Mrs.,
After I became a momma, I collected all of my girls' baby things. I have their first blanket, their coming home outfit, their first shoes, their first pacis, their first spoons ... if they first used it, I have it.
Now, that I'm a seasoned momma and a well-oiled wife (Wait. Well-oiled?), I don't know that I collect anything. I can't find a pair of socks that match. I can't find a matching place setting. Hell, I can't find a complete set of measuring spoons.
I seem to collect empty bottles of ibuprofin. I also have an abundance of used dryer sheets that are located BESIDE the laundry room trash can. I also have a nice collection of nailpolish stains on my couch pillows. I also have a huge collection of unused, unopened cleaning supplies. What do you know? I do collect things.
Actually, if you come to my home on poker night (when I do have a clean house), you'll notice that I collect pictures. I have dozens of pictures throughout my home. These are pictures of our daughters, our nieces, our kids' sports teams, our beach vacation, Christmas cards, Save The Date magnets. I love my pictures, and I love how they chart our lives and the lives of those we love.
Also, you'll notice a nice collection of dust on each and every one of our surfaces. That? I don't love so much.