Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Clean At Your Own Risk

*I think most of you knew I've been blogging over at for the past month as part of a contest. I missed my home here tonight, and since I know you didn't have an opportunity to see this entry (I won't know anything about contest results for another few weeks, by the way), I wanted to share it with you. Be on the lookout for more of my regular craziness in a day or two....*

You've got one. At least one.
I have more than one.

That know, THAT closet. The one stuffed so full of things you don't even remember you have. Baby gear, Christmas decorations, extension cords, and boxes of things My Better Half refuses to throw away (just so you know, these boxes haven't been opened since 2 states ago, ahem.). The cleaning bug has bitten me lately - or, more aptly, the organizing bug - and one of those closets has its magnetic force field beaming right at me.

The last time those doors were opened, I was treated to a tumbling cascade of cloth diapers, long-since-outgrown toys, extra tiny hangers for those extra tiny clothes, and mementos that haven't quite made it into The Boy's two-year box. He is about to make the much-anticipated move into his Big Boy Bed. What better time than to clean out his closets and make room for more Big Boy accessories?

So why am I balking? Yes, he's going to play with everything as it gets strewn haphazardly across his bedroom floor. Yes, I'm going to be nostalgic and misty remembering the times I snapped his precious teensy tushie into those soft, cozy cloth diapers. I can hang. I do well with nostalgia and occasional chaos. What's hard for me about letting go of these memories, these tiny treasures, is that there will be nothing to replace them. The decision has been made, largely for health reasons on my part, that our family is now complete. We are three. It's a decision that still brings me to tears, although I know it's for the best.

If I said I am not dreading saying goodbye to the idea of ever again having some small person filling up such small things in such a big way, I'd be lying. Cleaning out that closet is my final goodbye to babyhood. My acceptance of the way things need to be. It makes every moment with the Turkey bittersweet, and reminds me to store my memories away so carefully. I dread the tidal wave of tears.

It's so hard to say goodbye to material posessions anyway. We hoard them and cling to them like they're people we're afraid of losing. It's even harder when letting them go means letting go of one dream - one that was shared by two people, much younger than we are now - and accepting another reality. There are some things I've packed away to keep forever. The rest of it, though, needs to be cleared away.

I can't grow emotionally until I clear it away.

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