Foreclosed for Lack of Play: Honoring the Tiny Deaths of Motherhood
Published Mar 17, 2026
By: Amanda Popp
For months, my husband asked me if I am going to post the kids’ playhouse
to get rid of it. And for months, I had been telling him that “yes, I should.”
Truth be told, I couldn’t do it. My heart just wouldn’t let me. I didn’t realize
until the day I finally walked out to the yard, snapped the photo and posted it.
This pink roofed “Barbie” house had been in our yard for-basically-ever.
Before we had our big white van, I used to tell people to look for the pink
house in the yard.
It was a landmark. But looking at the picture, it felt more like a tombstone for
a season that had come to an end. Looking closely at the photo you would see
the weeds growing out of the door-clear evidence that play had ended a long
time ago. There was the dent on the roof where the boys would climb up on
to get a better view of the semi-trucks and choppers in the fields. The little
purple chairs where my big ole adult-sized behind sat while I was served gourmet meals of dandelion salad and imaginary everything. Each meal more
delicious than the ones before. If the dandelions weren’t being served as a
meal, they filled the flower boxes on either side of the door.
I posted the two pictures of the house on my Facebook page and let everyone
know the house was in foreclosure because of lack of play. I wanted to be
funny, but as I hit the “post” button? I had to hold back tears.
Ecclesiastes 3:1 says “There is an occasion for everything, and a time for
every activity under heaven.”
Sure, that verse is typically read at funerals, thinking about the end of a life. I
don’t know that we think often about the tiny “deaths” that happen while we
are still living. The end of the playhouse era, the end of the imaginary food
era, the end of the dented roof era.
This house wasn’t new when we got it; another family had passed it on
because their time was over. Now, it was our turn. It’s a good thing there is noglass in those plastic houses; I think they build them that way so the windows
don’t burst from all the memories they’re trying to enclose.
But maybe memories aren’t meant to be enclosed. Maybe they need room to
escape so they can fill us with gratitude. The memories need room to escape
so they can fill your heart and mind with beautiful things. The memories need
room to escape to bring laughter to your heart and mind. The memories need
room to escape because they’re meant to. They’re not meant to be kept inside
of the house, they’re meant to create moments in your life.
I think the word moments can be used for time….Moments for every activity
under heaven. There are occasions for everything. Moments for every activity
under heaven.
The thing about occasions and activities…they’re not meant to last forever.
They’re blips on our radars of life. Some blips last longer than others…but
they don’t last forever. As I watched the pink roofed house get loaded up by the next family, I
realized while the structure was leaving, the legacy of the house remained.
The season of play and pretend with the house was over, but the season of
remembering was only beginning.
