7:32am. I open the door to Mia's room and find her laying horizontally at the head of her bed. The long sleeve shirt of her Little Mermaid pajamas is raised to expose her stomach while pillows cover her body serving as sheets. Surrounding her are a variety of Melissa and Doug toy foods. This is a typical morning.

Mia has always been a collector. From the time she was very young, scooting around on her knees (her main mode of getting around until she started walking at two) she has always had little trinkets clasped in her hands, taking pleasure in the feel of the familiar.

Her collections have now overtaken her bed. It started with the play utensils. You would often see her with a wooden butter knife. Holding it not in a threatening but protective way. As in, this is my knife. Nobody is gonna take it from me. There was a time that I removed all the play utensils from her room, trying to break her of the routine. I obviously understimated her determination and intuition as she was always able to snoop out my lame spots. I accepted the inevitability of it all and gave up the fight.

It's now reached the point that she wants to be surrounded by her things. Literally. In the mornings, I can tell when Mia is awake not because she calls for me, oh no. It's the sound of her toy refridgerator door slamming shut as she finds out her fake wooden food. She pulls out the ziplocks we store the toys in and one by one dumps their contents on the quilt of her bed. This is all assuming of course that she hasn't done this before she fell asleep the night before. She loves her things, and it doesn't seem to bother her to sleep on wooden toys with velcro on the side (no sensory issues there).

One day I hope to be able to ask her about this self made mandate she has put upon herself. Does she like the feel? Does she like the way the light hits the toys? Or is it just that she loves to see her mom clean up the same damn toys three times a day? I don't know.