What am I going to do with all this baby stuff.
This is a national treasure, yet the Smithsonian is not taking my calls.
I had a plan for all my baby items. I was going to use them for Take Home Number 2 and Take Home Number 3. Well, that changed.
I held all of Toddlerina's items for my buddy at work. Several years ago, his first daughter was born too early and could not stay. He welcomed home a new baby girl this past spring.
I lovingly folded each of Toddlerina's items with an easy mind. I pictured them on this much loved and much wanted baby girl. They said thanks but no thanks, we are swimming in girl clothes. What.
I think about the bins and bins of items my sister gave me sitting in our basement. Honestly some of it really should have gone into the garbage. Sorry Ang. It should have.
Now I get it.
It is like you want it all to keep going, freeze in time as much as possible. Eternally toddling. It all goes so fucking fast.
I can't believe how emotional I am over the clothes. Alex wore NB until he was 5 weeks old for fuck's sake, and I still cried when I folded them and put them in the tote. I forced them on him for a few extra days even when they barely snapped at the bottom, too. And he's still small. I'm going to be a mess for much of motherhood, aren't I?
ReplyDeleteUm, I yes and yes to both blog post and comment. I get really bummed whenever I have to pack Leah's clothes up. It's too fast. It's not fair. Why can't time go by like it did when we were trying to have a baby?!
ReplyDeleteI'm in no hurry universe, you hear me?!?!
Those precious little objects. I give your coworker credit for saying no, though. (And I'm so freaking happy for him.) I guess the only way to let them go is to remember that you have some photos and some vivid memories and some murkier ones and HER. Stuff is just stuff.
ReplyDeleteExcept for that one adorable onesie, and that little dress, and of course that awesome T-shirt that said something like 50% mommy, 50% daddy? Can't get that awful thing out of my head.
I held on tight to some of Arlo's most sentimental clothes, too. I didn't care if they never warmed another one of my babies...I kept them. I figured I'd make something out of them--a quilt? I had a roommate whose grandmother made a quilt out of her grandkid's childhood clothes and then gave it to them as a high school graduation gift. I always loved that idea.
ReplyDeleteSome of the lesser loved clothes I ended up taking into my old job (I worked on the maternity floor at a hospital) to be given out to moms who really weren't prepared for their babies in terms of supplies. I considered it a bit of an investment in karma, I suppose.
God yes. And to think of throwing them in the trash...well, it's unthinkable. I have the same feeling with really crummy photographs. Yes, it's blurry and could be a picture of a family of smiling hyenas...but that in the center? That's my baby. Reading Trinity's comment above, I love the idea of a quilt.
ReplyDeletewhat a beautiful post. I can imagine the smell of baby clothes, the memories attached to them, and the yearning to turn back time must be so strong at times. Amazing to have those memories in your mind and in your heart. And amazing to have your two speedily growing sweeties.
ReplyDeleteIt certainly does. I have to go through the mass amount of stuff in our basement from one kid. I know its going to be a teary experience for me because its all flying by at lightening speed. Yet I'm so swimmingly happy at this stage in the here and now too. I hope you and your beautiful family are doing well and enjoying the summer!
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful post. It's always hard to think about getting rid of the things from each little piece of your family's life. If you want to keep them forever, I say that's what basements and attics and cardboard boxes and storage units are for.
ReplyDeleteI agree with gingerandlime. I keep the things the littles wore that we most loved seeing them in. They are in clear plastic containers labeled "Next Generation". Looking forward to dressing the grandchildren in them some day.
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