Last year as part of preparing for our baby’s arrival we did a major cleaning job, which necessitated going through every single item in our bedroom closet. Some items hadn’t been touched in years and still I had a hard time parting with them. The perfect purple cotton blouse, for example, that was literally coming apart at the seams and becoming R-rated. I held onto it long past the time it was wearable, promising to work it into my new hobby of making rag rugs. Sentimental but practical! Then my husband gently reminded me I hadn’t yet finished the first rag rug that I began three Christmases ago. (I want to finish, but my hands get sore.)
Anyway, you get the idea — I hate to let go of things and I’m used to wearing favorite clothes until they fall apart. So imagine how painful it is to go through my son’s dresser and box up or otherwise remove darling clothing items that he only fit into for a couple months or maybe only a few weeks. And this week was the third time I’ve had to clean out his dresser even though we’ve only been using it for three months. And we’ve only just begun!
This task is easier for some of my friends because they plan to have more children. They simply box everything up and save it for their next baby. They still have everything, it’s just stored out of the way.
But we’re way too old to survive doing this all over again. I’ve used some of the too-small stuff as trade-in at a baby resale shop for buying the next size up, sold on-line (just love Craig’s List!), donated some, and boxed much of it in preparation for giving it to someone who’s expecting a boy (all of the women I know who are pregnant now are expecting a girl) just the way much of it was given to us. It makes it a tiny bit easier knowing it will go to another cute little boy. (Not as cute as my son, of course.)
But there are still some things that hurt to let go of, that almost bring me to tears. The white onesie and dark blue cotton knit pants, for example, that Daniel wore in his first formal portrait taken when he was three months old. A tiny bib embroidered with a lion. (Daniel, lion’s den — get it?)
Molly, a neat freak I work with who has six-year-old twins, shared with me her coping strategy — a memory box. Not just for the first tooth and report card kind of stuff, but also for those clothing items you just can’t part with yet. Go straight from the dresser to the box, no cluttering allowed.
I need to get over this hang-up because the flip side is that there are more cute clothes to put into Daniel’s dresser, and if I wait too long, he won’t get to wear them at all. I bought a pair of pants and blue plaid flannel shirt at the end of summer, and kept thinking they’re still too big. Finally put them on him a week ago, and –- you guessed it — the only way we’ll get those pants on him again is if he’s in a disposable diaper instead of the usual cloth diaper. Oh, and I have to learn to judge his clothes by the size of the garment, not by size on the tag. He’s wearing several 12-18mo onsies that fit fine now, while there’s a 3mo size shirt that’s still baggy.
So, are you a keeper or a tosser? If the former, how do you avoid cluttering up the whole house?
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