I got Mahlie’s school picture back this week.
I looked at it, sat down, looked at it some more.
Gone were the pudgy cheeks.
Flyaway hair was replaced by hair pulled back in butterfly clips.
My little girl was…. just that. A little girl. No longer a baby or a toddler.
There are boxes of clothes to be handed down to her sister. Cute outfits, dresses and leggings barely worn, outfits she wore to Christmas and school pictures.
I reluctantly put them in a box, labeled and stored in the garage until her sister can fit into them. I am consoled with the fact that they will be worn again.
And then I look at the boxes and boxes of 12month-18month clothes. They are labeled and stored for….. who?
Every time I go into the garage, I ask the same question, “are you sure we should donate these? We don’t want to hold on to them?”
It is a different answer in my head every time. For my husband, it is unwavering. There was a time when 3 was the magic number. But time isn’t slowing down and unfortunately my birthday’s keep coming. I was no spring chicken when I had my first and second. And while Halle Barry has shown everyone you can rock being an older mom, there are definite set backs.
We now sure our magic number is 2. Most days I am fine with this decision. Other days, the finality of it strikes at my heart and I waver. And I go out to the garage and look at the boxes of clothes and ask the question again.
I think of the sleepless nights and evening tantrums. Yes, donate.
I think of the weight of a sleeping baby on my chest, the smell, oh the smell! of that small baby head. Maybe just hang on to them a bit longer.
Then the girls run out, Mahlie scoots by with her sister closely behind. They are laughing and screaming as only little girls can.
Pi comes running out, chasing them.
Things are pretty perfect. 2 is a great number. I get back to sorting and arranging the growing number of boxes with baby items in them.
The bassinet that I kept by my bed with Sarah until she was 4 months old. The dress she wore for her first day of day care. The Halloween costumes for Mahlie’s first and 2nd Halloween. The Christmas dresses. The musical crib toy. My eye tear.
“Hey Pi, come here, I have a question for you…..”
At this very moment, there is a shriek. Mahlie comes running and screaming. Sarah is running around to the back yard, Mahlie’s lovey firmly in her hands, squealing in laughter. The dog takes this moment to breach the front door and go running towards the neighbor’s yard. Pi looks at me, looks at each girl, to the dog, wondering where to go first.
I get out the tape and seal the boxes.
Have a great crazy day!