A pair of knitted booties, tiny hand prints set in clay, a kiss curl in a bow.
Some of the precious baby keepsakes we treasure forever.
I have kept all of the above, as you would expect.
There are, however, a few less cuddly additions to the collection, as I was reminded today when I finally said: "Goodbye" to some mouldy old cake.
I'm not American, but five years ago - to the week - we held a Naming Day for the boys.
The centre piece was a blue and white cake topped with an icing teddy and tiger, each representing a boy.
Disney on Ice
The top tier was preserved in the freezer, amid the Arctic Roll and Smiley Faces.
Cryogenically frozen, like Walt Disney.
Only this was more Hammer Horror.
A mutant Teddy and Tiger greeted us when we defrosted the freezer.
The thawed creatures had grown fuzzy, green mould on their snout and nose, respectively.
Clearly icing can't reside in the freezer for years, unlike that block of peas circa 2004 .
(Just ask Stacey Solomon - she's been to Iceland).
To prevent an outbreak of salmonella, we decided to dispose of the contaminated cake.
Fungus the Bogeymom
Only it sat festering and decaying, like something out of Great Expectations, due to my procrastination.
I was saddened to part with it.
But as my husband binned the fated, fungus-festooned food source, I remembered I had an album full of Naming Day photographs. And their matching satin sailor suits (boy, they're going to love me when they're 18).
Mouldy old cake's not the only disgusting baby memento I saved.
Cutting the Cord
Recently, while looking through some baby keepsakes, my Aunt's curiosity grew when we came across some tissue.
"Ooh what's this? A lock of hair?" she enquired, trying to open the square of Charmin Ultra.
I wracked my brain, but couldn't remember....
Until my Aunt shrieked, having successfully pulled the tissue unstuck.
Only to reveal a flash of dirt.
What was that skanky, congealed, dried goo that was welded to the tissue, like a boys' bogey picking session?
Then I remembered.
An umbilical cord stump.
Once it had been so precious. I had been given the boys' 'stumps' by the hospital and then discarded them without a care.
But after watching Portland Babies, I realised that some women keep their umbilical cord stumps.
Some have the entire cord crafted into a heart shape. Lovingly preserved so that they can share this beautiful reminder of a mother's attachment to her baby with that child in the future.
My friend did this. Her son is still recovering from the trauma of being presented with the 'special' object on stage at his 16th birthday party.
I made my poor husband don a pair of Marigolds and root through four bin bags at midnight to retrieve the putrid, pus filled items. I named him 'Stig of the Stump'.
Forgotten, they were then left rotting in a box of bits for years.
I only kept them because that's what some people do.
My friend thinks my mementos are weird.
But I think it's odd that she has kept a stick with wee on it (her positive pregnancy test) even though the thin blue line has vanished.
I did about five tests (I was in denial, plus, buying a test from Poundplanet is really not advisable).
Should I keep all five, like a set of steak knives?
Each to their own. Whatever works for you.
It's not unusual to keep your children's first tooth. But what about the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th and so on?
I've got enough pearly whites to make a necklaces
Only instead of candy (I'm not American) it's made up of upper left molars and lower right incisors.
My husband thinks it's a bit macabre. A little Blair Witch doctor.
I'm not sure what to do with this assortment of apothecary specimens.
I'm sentimental, or maybe just confused about what's 'normal' and what's hygienic.
Don't be mistaken. I didn't wolf down my placentas with a bottle of Chianti (I'm vegetarian anyway) and I haven't got my tonsils in a jar.
But It's like an episode of Fleabag Monkeyface in my keepsakes box.
Locks of hair, teeth, body parts are among the bacteria laden artifacts.
What next? My last pre-pregnancy tampon? A muslin cloth with dried on milky sick? The first meconium filled nappy?
I know I'm not alone. I dread to think what's lurking out there. Nail clippings? Eyelashes?
Chicken pox scabs?
Memento to Go
I can't let go of these 'trophies' because they remind me of infancy, like the boxes of baby grows in the loft. Maybe I have attachment issues?
Sometimes, it is because I'm not sure what to keep.
Who is to decide what's acceptable and what's not? What harm does it do?
Clue: Items that don't require a visit from Rentokill.
I have lots of nice keepsakes all carefully preserved.
Plus, the greatest record of all - my memories.
I can slam dunk (da) junk from arts and crafts projects, having retained the genuinely precious items.
But maybe I need the Germinator to help me Slam dunk (da) gunk. .