How Sappy am I

Fall has arrived; at least in the rest of the world. Here is Texas people are still water skiing at the lake, but the trees know that I would never be satisfied without the changing of their colors, so just for me they are starting to change and even drop a few leaves. With fall comes the overwhelming desire to drink apple cider, stuff yourself with your children's Halloween candy, and pull out your favorite sweaters. (Got to hide the extra pounds from the candy.)

It is weird not to have the normal responsibility of preparing a house for winter, (Cleaning the furnace, shutting off sprinklers, pulling annuals, and putting away fans), but today I found myself pulling out boxes and changing over my children’s clothes. For those of us who have more than one child, this is a normal task. For me it is a spring and fall event. It is never planned, but it always happens while I am folding laundry and then attempting to put things away in my children's drawers.

Of course their drawers are a mess. I start by trying to straighten things, and then I run across that skirt that has been too short for a few months and which one of my girls refuses to stop wearing. It must go, and while I'm at it I start to see what else doesn't fit and pretty soon the laundry is all but forgotten and the contents of all five childrens' drawers are on the floor.

I look at their now almost empty drawers and think it is time to go shopping, something I have probably already done a few times, just to get the contents they have left in their drawers. I then remember those boxes out in the garage and think to myself, "Are there any clothes in so and so's size?" There just so happens to be two boxes full. In fact there is not even enough room in the drawers for everything to fit. So I must sort one more time.

I decide what is too stained or too worn and out they go. This is the hard part. See I remember each child that has worn this outfit and how I loved seeing them in it. I think of the months I fought them to wear anything else and they refused. (Those with girls will understand.) I remember seeing their diapers as they learned to do summersaults, in this dress or how they put a hole in this knee by sliding on the church's gym floor. (They get it from their father.Ü) How can I not be sad to say goodbye? Part of me is tempted to box them all up and keep them forever. (Just call me the crazy clothes lady.)

I know I have to let go, but this time is especially hard, because as I went through Hallie's clothes I realized there was no one to pass them on too. I haven't boxed up her clothes in a while, but as of last spring I still had people whom I loved to share clothes with. Somehow it didn't seem so bad thinking they were going to a good home where they will be loved. (Doesn't it sound like I am giving up a pet?)

I think I am going a bit crazy, but I am also saying goodbye to an era, to the part of my life that I have loved so much for the past 10 years. Like Mark's Great-Grandmother (who was struggling with memory) used to say, "You're the one with the baby," and she was always right. Now as I pack away the last of the 18 to 24 month clothes, I realize there is no one to pass them on to. I am done. While this is good and I am happy with the decision, please understand as I look at your little ones with nostalgia in my eyes, because it has been a wonderful trip, and I wouldn’t change a moment of it. The clothes may be leaving, but the stories are in my heart and are wonderful stories, as the state of our goodwill clothes could tell you.