My Sorting Hat

January 25, 2010 at 2:59 pm | Posted in Bun, Giggles, Lollipop | 1 Comment

I put on my sorting hat this weekend. Went through boxes and boxes and boxes of baby clothes. Made piles. (I am an excellent pile-maker.) Piles to keep for Bun. Piles to give away for other people’s buns. Piles I had no idea what to do with. Does anyone out there really need seven sets of baby wrist rattles??

Where There’s a Goodwill, There’s a Way
When all the piles were sorted, resorted, and repacked, three boxes went back in the closet. One sat empty. And five, yes, five, went to Goodwill. All Lollipop’s baby girl clothes. (Because, no confusion, we definitely saw little boy parts on Bun’s ultrasound. No pink onesies need apply.) So: all the little, frilly, ruffly, totally impractical, adorable dresses: gone. All outfits with flowers and bunnies and kittens and butterflies: gone. Everything with bows: gone.

I thought sorting through clothes from her babyhood would make me sad. I thought I would cry. Copiously. But I didn’t. Not one tear.

Perhaps my nesting instinct is too strong. The insane, intense, inexplicable desire to have my closets organized now overrode any nostalgia I might have felt. But I think it was something else.

3-2-1 … Kapow!
I found that I wasn’t really attached to her clothes. The gorgeous turquoise pants and sweater set? She wore it once. The pink corduroy overalls? So hard to take on and off, I was thrilled when she outgrew them. And the spring-themed dress with bloomers? She wore it for five minutes before her diaper exploded. That diaper, that’s what I remember.

This Bib's a Keeper

I kept my favorites, of course. Her first pair of Mary Janes, her first hat. The terry-cloth jumpsuit she loved, just like her Daddy did when he was little. The white dress and bloomers from Grandma, in case Lollipop wants it for her daughter someday. And, yes, the “Beware: I Eat Dog Food” bib because, well, she did once. Or twice. No comment.

Dust Bunnies
But what I found myself smiling over, holding gently in my hand, pausing to touch, were the things Lollipop really used. They were the things Giggles used also. And so will Bun. The set of bibs my grandmother made, most already “blessed” with a rainbow of stains. The socks that look like tennis shoes (and stay on, through all kinds of wiggling). The painfully tiny yellow giraffe onesie. (Are our babies ever really that small? How fast they grow.)

Sure, I sorted stuff, gave it away. But I kept my memories. They don’t take up closet space. And my kids won’t ever outgrow them.


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  1. Love that last paragraph.

    I am OCD about giving stuff to Goodwill and yet I still feel like we have SO MUCH clutter. Ack! I also give outgrown clothes to a co-worker expecting his third little girl. I have a bin for special outfits that I want to save.

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