He has been eyeing me for weeks. The husband that is. And not the sort of "eyeing" that leads to romance (I think I remember what that word means). No, this type of eyeing involves something completely different.
He wants me to get rid of the last remaining baby items in the house. How could he you ask? Well, I will tell you. Right about this time every year our church does an attic sale. Chris is in charge of most of the planning. So that means the official "eyeing" begins in early spring. Little sayings like "Look at all this crap!" "Do they even play with that anymore?" And of course small little stabs at the items in our bedroom that have been there since infancy:
A pac-n-play, a baby swing and a changing table!
These items are no longer needed. Evan starts Kindergarten in less than a month. Ryan finishes up his last year of preschool as well. They are no longer babies, they are no longer toddlers, they are barely even pre-schoolers. They are now boys. Kids.... Little men!
I can barley stand it as is, and he wants me to get rid of this stuff???
Does he not know about my inner neurosis?
Now, in his defense, I will have to say that he may have a teeny tiny (microscopic) point. Our bedroom has sort of turned into a version of the Fisher Price Graveyard. The pac-n-play that is in one corner of the room now sits under a thin layer of dust and has come to serve as my laundry assistant. Clean clothes draped over on the left side, the somewhat clean (a.k.a can wear again) on the right side. Inside the pac-n-play are items of clothing that I am not sure are in style anymore. A few toys are in there too, and okay a pair of sheets. Yeah, so it has gotten sort of bad. My habit of stock piling clothes. According to my mother I have done this for years. "What do you think hangers are for" I can hear her oh so clearly say. My husband (the eye) has the same speech. Yes, I drape clothes over the pac-n-play sometimes. What can I say, I am freaking tired!
Then there is the baby swing. The cute, sits a foot off the ground, travels easily, "Ocean Wonders" baby swing. It was Ryan's favorite. It was also my nephews favorite when he stayed with me one day a week last year. I liked being able to offer that to friends and family. If you were visiting, and owned a child who was 18 months or under it was no problem! I had everything they may of needed. I was that cool Mom who just had it all, no matter the age. I even had diapers on the changing table..... Which is where I turn to now. That changing table was one of my favorite finds at a consignment store after I had Ryan. We had just moved into our new house and I needed a changing table for downstairs, It's white, wooden, has a little drawer and two shelves. It's simple and sweet and only cost me $25.00. It now sits on the opposite side of our bedroom, It too a dinosaur of memories. Yes of course clothes are stocked on top of it. A mix of stuff that doesn't fit anymore,their old soccer uniforms, tractor pajamas from last year, all of their shorts and T-shirts for the summer lay on top. It has indeed become a bottomless pit of 4T and 5T clothing. Or as the eye likes to point out, another place for "crap" (his favorite word of the decade).
Well.....what does he know? I like having a place to keep some of their clothes down stairs. Especially the summer time. I wash their stuff fold it and pile on the changing table. It's just easier so they do't have to run upstairs to get dressed all the time. It's not my fault that the washing machine is downstairs and their rooms are UPSTAIRS!
IT MAKES LIFE EASIER!!!!
Can you feel my neurosis kicking in?
So now is probably a good time to pause and admit, I don't know what makes life easier anymore. I am not sure I ever really knew and probably never will. I have to say I am not upset over losing my dual laundry assistants. In a weird way I agree, it's time to move some of this stuff out of our room. Take our room back if you will. Yeah, I get that. But what I really think has me waffling back and fourth here, is the idea of getting rid of all this stuff really means we are done having kids. It seems so final even to write that, but sadly I do believe in my heart it is true. No more babies... How weird. But yet, how not so weird. I certainly had my fun, had my time. Not once but twice! Two wonderful, chunky, squishy perfect, little babies.... And now they are old enough to put their own laundry away.
And talk back.
And slam doors.
And sing songs from the Black Eyed Peas.
So, I give in to the eye and allow him to dismantle the items. I am, however not giving up the baby swing. Some things I just have to put my foot down. And I still have a few friends left with little babies who may visit any time now. I can still say "Come on over, the sing is waiting." My husband seems to understand this and I am grateful.
I look around our room now and feel oddly impressed. We have more space now. The room looks bigger, more grown up. Different.... Where was that IKEA catalog that came in the mail the other day? I can sort of visualize a sleek new book case in that corner. I turn on my heel in pursuit of my favorite furniture magazine. I do after all have a new graveyard to build!
*The boys pose on the changing table before it's carted out of the house. It cracks me up how once they were so small, now have legs long enough to dangle to the second shelf. Sigh.... Can't beat the silly fces though.*