Last week I saw a picture of Riley at Rhys’s age wearing some shoes that we hadn’t yet taken out. So I opened up Pandora’s Box (also known as the boys’ closet) and searched until I came across the box of shoes and found not one, but two pairs that Rhys could wear now. Seriously, having kids with birthdays only a month apart is great for reusing clothes and shoes at this age.
But when I was searching through the closet I came across the messy box of packed up clothes and shoes that Rhys has already outgrown. The teeny tiny three month clothes and the six month adorable outfits and the nine month and twelve month clothes even. All of them in there, just strewn about.
And I realized, I had to make room.
So I took them all out and packed them up a little neater and moved them out.
And then I started crying.
Because I’m not passing these clothes on to any more of my kids.
Rhys is my last baby. I’m okay with that. But man, if that fact didn’t go straight to my tear ducts.
It’s such a seesaw of emotions. When I was younger (heck, even when I first started dating Matt) I always envisioned I’d have at least three kids, maybe even four. I’m the oldest of four kids and I loved growing up with a big family, even in the craziest of times.
But now, after talking about it and assessing everything in our lives, it just isn’t feasible to have another kid. So Rhys is our last baby.
So packing up his clothes just got to me. I won’t have another baby wearing them. I won’t be pregnant again. It’s just such a weird feeling. And so finite.
Life is weird. Feelings are weirder.
I will say though, that as a compromise to myself, I did still keep all of those clothes and they’re being stored at my parents’ house (because they are saints and let me keep a ton of crap there) for any of my siblings or cousins’ future babies.
So, that’ll help a bit, right?
Feelings are fun.
happy wednesday!
Posted in My Crazy Life
