Christmas brought a new load of toys. The Type A personality in me needed to start clearing out the old to make room for the new. While in my youngest’s room, I came across this wonderful mishmash of teethers, (never used) pacifiers, and play rings. We have no discernible need for these guys (we have all our teeth!), yet I found it terribly difficult to pack them up to donate. I’m not sure why these posed such a challenge—we’ve donated clothes, exersaucers, stuffed animals– and while I’ve felt a twinge of sadness each time, I knew that someone needed them more than we did, so off they went. This lump of plastic, though, was different.
So, why were these my “my baby’s not a baby anymore” breaking point? I’m still not sure, but they were. By the time he toddled into his room to see what I was doing in there the tears were rolling.
Maybe these signify the end of my baby days. Noah is and has been a toddler, but he still needs me for so much. He’s my little buddy and we spend out days together while my big is away at school. He doesn’t need these baby items anymore, and it will be a matter of time before he doesn’t need me anymore. Someone make time stop. Burn it down, NOW! I’m not ready to think about this chick flying my coop.
Maybe it’s because these items signify the end of a really tough time in my life. The transition from one boy to two wasn’t an easy one for me. It went hand-in-hand with a bout of depression and a (self-elected) change in my career. I spent so much time feeling overwhelmed with two little boys, that I feel like I missed out on some of my baby. I realize that kicking these to the curb moves me further away from the moments I lost with him, and I can never get back.
Maybe it’s just because I’m an overemotional mess from time to time—and that’s me. A big ‘ol frickin ball of emotions. I struggled with my babies, but I loved my babies with all my heart. I could man up and stop wallowing; I know I could. Or, and this is a lot more likely, I’ll let myself keep feeling the feels and stand over these items as I pack them up and let a little part of me–and my babies go.
Hey, if you guys need me, I’ll be off sobbing in the corner. Bring tissues…and chocolate, because I’ll need ’em.
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