The weather has been absolutely divine recently, 10 degrees above average some days! I realize this is more than likely due to global warming and the bugs will probably be ferocious this summer, the heat sweltering. So I'll enjoy the sunny days at the park while I have them. Complete with cool breezes and chilly evenings.
While I thumbed through piles of shorts, t-shirts, onesies and tiny little socks, I reminisced about the "early days" with my son. The days of spit-ups, and amazing firsts ("OMG he rolled over!"). The long, painful nights of no sleep, and pumping, and waking in a panic, searching for the baby I put in his crib 2 hours ago. I remembered his first few amazing steps, the first time he said mama. I tried not to get sad as I handed over his little tiny jeans, or his small "Baby Bum" hoodies (the one he wore on his first swing ride), reminding myself that I had hours (days?) of video footage at home, and thousands (!) of photos. But I still lost a small, tangible part of his history in the past few days. "He was this small once?" "How did my long lanky boy ever fit into these itty-bitty pants?"
Needless to say, I had to keep some things.
Call Hoarders if you will, I'm not going to budge. ;)