After a few days of purging my kids' belongings, I am happy to say that it's actually going quite well! I guess if I linger in the basement of bottomed out expectations, I can only end up surprising myself with success of some measure. So let's recap where I've been:- Clothing: I've tackled Aidan's 3T-5T with relative ease, except for a minor choke-up in the beginning. I also bagged up all of Aidan's old shoes, save for his first pair of tiny denim soft "sneakers" and his first pair of adorable sandals. Footwear was followed by winter-wear: all winter coats and snowpants. I had been saving Aidan's outgrown winter coats for Grace, knowing how expensive they are and wanting to recycle the bigger-ticket items, but when I saw the still-beautiful coats -- dark blue, dark gray, black, olive green, etc. -- I knew I couldn't dress my girly-girl in those, especially when she'll be around 4 years old, probably in preschool, with other kids who would definitely include in their group some smart-mouth who would make some hurtful comment (although knowing Grace, I doubt she would let him/her get away with such a comment ever again). No, the very-boyish coats and winter-wear got bagged up with the rest.
- Baby Items: Joining the ranks of clothing are other baby-related things, such as receiving blankets (save for the two flannel hospital blankets in which my babies were first wrapped), lap pads, cradle sheets, crib sheets, an extra crib bumper, wash cloths, sleep positioner, etc. I branched out and bagged up my well-used Baby Bjorn, Boppy pillow, bottles and cups, infant car seat covers, and so on. You get the idea. The one thing I could not part with, however, was Aidan's baby snowsuit -- a sweet Peter Rabbit number, sack-shaped with no legs, the cutest bundley item ever.
- Toys: This was not planned, but since my kids are still under the weather we had to stay home from church yesterday. They were getting bored and restless (as was I) so I took a risk and asked Aidan if he wanted to help me sort through his toys. I was very nervous; my pack-rat gene has always manifested itself in my boy, and I feared that this endeavor would result in nothing getting purged. However, I was greatly surprised -- not only did he want to join me, but I was amazed at how much he was willing to part with! Major success on that front.
Despite this great triumphant start, I do realize that I have just been putting off the inevitable: tackling my babies' tiny clothes. I have a few more small boxes of toys in the attic to weed through and combine with the others, but after that I must face my "giant." I've come this far -- I know I'll be OK. A tear or two, maybe, but OK nonetheless.
So what's on tap for today? Well, first a true test to see how "triumphant" I can actually claim to be. This morning I am heading over to our local community center to give them some of the bagged clothes. It's one thing to take them out of a bin, put them in a garbage bag, label them, and put them in the basement. They're still in my possession -- I've just moved them around a bit. The true test comes in picking up that bag and placing it in the hand of someone else, of actually letting go. I wonder how I'll feel ... A little sad, I'm sure. "Finality" is never easy for me in any shape or form. But I think it might be a pretty empowering thing, to give something back to a community who has helped me in my own time of want, to give "to the least of these," having worn those shoes myself and knowing what it feels like to receive. I just need to spread a little extra dose of courage and strength on my bagel this morning.
My kids are still sick, with Aidan suffering a surprising relapse after a weekend of improvement. He's back up to 103.4 and pale as a ghost. Grace shuffles between little or no fever, but something is bugging her, turning her into one grumpy, dissatisfied, unhappy little girl. Later today I'll head back to the attic, this time diving in to the bins that I've been putting off, able to do that no longer. Or maybe not. I'm exhausted, having been up several times during the night with my shaking, feverish boy. It's gray and rainy again, not aiding a cheery disposition. I have a difficult task to do this morning.
Maybe I'll just take a break.
Tomorrow is another day.
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