To Everything There is a Season

In the past, I have been described as being "more dude-like than most dudes." I'm not sure what that means exactly because I'm not into sports or cars or anything loud/greasy. On the other hand, I do lack a certain amount of sentimentality. In fact, if there were an award for being unsentimental, I might win it. Also, I tend to be coldly logical in a way that a Vulcan could appreciate. That's why I have trouble understanding what happened this morning.

For reasons that defy any rational explanation, I've been unable to pack up the baby's outgrown clothes for charity. At first, I tried to convince myself that I was saving them in order to make a quilt out of my favorite dresses. It wasn't true, of course. Many of the outfits in there had fabric unsuitable for quilting. A few were so stained, I'd have to do some very creative cutting to use them. But I couldn't find it in my heart to let them go, so for a year, the pile of outgrown clothes has been growing to very unsteady heights.

Finally, this morning, I admitted to myself that I wasn't going to recycle any of the clothes. I couldn't bear to cut into those tiny skirts and ruffles. But there were some super sweet outfits, many of them worn only once or twice. It would be a shame if nobody used them, so I started bagging them for charity.

I don't know what happened, but something inside me snapped. I just started weeping and sobbing. I don't know why. I never had this trouble giving up the boys' clothing -- or anything else -- for that matter. Have any of you moms out there experienced this? Or am I just being weird and hormonal?

I confess that I kept a couple of outfits -- Babystyle's coming home outfit and a dress she wore on her first Christmas. Even so, looking -- even thinking about those bags of clothes makes me cry. Even now, I'm resisting the urge to go upstairs and rescue a few more cherry-printed frocks.

God must have known that I could take only so much, because shortly after I was done packing, the postman delivered a package. We love hiking when the weather is nice, and the baby backpack carrier I ordered last week had arrived. The delivery created an exciting diversion for Baby Walkabout and me. We had a great time adjusting the straps and giving it a test run all over the house.

Yes, Juicy Turkey Baby's first year is almost over (sniffle), but there are good times ahead, too.

Bubbles, One Week Old