But, today I'm mourning.
Our MOPS Consignment sale is this weekend.
This is something I dread every year.
Not because it's a lot of work.
Because I'm letting go.
I'm letting go of the baby.
That phase when everything smells of gum drops and spit up.
The deep breathing that comes when they've fallen asleep on your chest.
That euphoria you feel when they smile as you walk into the room.
I'm going through boxes.
I'm seeing the outfit that C. wore for his 6 month pictures,
and the sleepers that I used to rock the boys to sleep in.
Or the shirt that C. wore to A's Valentine's Day Party at Preschool
And A's ( and C's) first Easter sweater vest.
And the overalls A was wearing when he took his first steps.
I'm very at peace with the fact that we're not having anymore children.
I'm ok with that.
I'm sleeping through the night. (most of the time)
I have no more diapers or wipes in my house.
I have no baby gates in the house.
I'm not on a "constant state of alert."
I don't need to worry about nap schedules and feeding times.
I'm really ok with that.
But letting go of the things that remind me of this phase.
It's almost like loosing part of my own youth.