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My mother is a compulsive cleaner who will throw anything away if it is not in use the moment she sees it. As such, most of the toys I had as a child exist in some landfill. Other items I had, like posters and books have disappeared for good too. Aside from my video games (thank god those were never tossed), all of my childhood is gone.
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Your mother is a saint. In my house, MY patron saint of cleanliness (mom) was always instantly vetoed with the BIG BAD COUNTER SAINT OF PACKRATS (dad) and thus our house (and compound, for that matter) still remains a massive fucking landfill.
Over the last few years it hasn't been as bad because he stores the vast majority of the shit he keeps stays at his nursery. But, if the broken down Jeep full of his junk parked in front of my door is any indication, I dread the day when he runs out of space at the fucking nursery because it only means whatever useless junk he gets a hold of is going to end up stacked 8 ft. high around our houses like some makeshift fortress... You know... IN CASE THE REVOLUTION COMES.
Jam it back in, in the dark.
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Paco