What Do You Mean It Isn't For Me?

This week I have been dutifully going about the arduous task of rotating the kids clothes. The bigger sized come out of boxes that are hauled up from the basement and placed into their drawers. The things they have outgrown have now made a pile so large that the pile has outgrown the closet where I throw them. I sorted into three piles, one for each child. Then folded and sorted by size printed on the tags. Finally bag them and label the bags before hauling them back down three stories to the basement. Oh the exciting joys of my life are so underwhelming some days, aren't they?

In the mess that we called the living room during the process, Maddie found the newborn Santa suit the Bairds gave us when Jacob was born. She was elated and ecstatic to wear the dress up she had just discovered. I told her it was Jacob size wouldn't fit her. She was not deterred. She sat down to get it on. She got one foot, then the other and proclaimed, "See!?!?! If fits me!!!" Then she stood and found the first arm and pulled and pulled and pulled. She couldn't get it up over her shoulder. Oh well, she decided. She'd just get the other arm in. No luck. Couldn't even get her hand in the hole. Finally, she gave up trying to get it all the way on and decided what she had was good enough. She waddled over and asked for the hat. I obliged and she set off to play. That lasted all of two minutes as she discovered she could barely move her feet and couldn't use her right hand at all. Cracked me up.

As far as clothes go, I'm becoming lots less conservative about saving everything. When Maddie was born I still had every stitch of clothing Ben ever wore. Even the stuff I hated. I have this paranoid idea in my head that if Brian ever lost his job, I'd need a million old stained onesies because I wouldn't have money to by new ones.

My kids have more clothes than they need most of the time. Having an abundance is nice in that I am only pushed to finish the laundry every two weeks. Mind you I said FINISH. I do wash every week. We just have to rumage through the clean basket to find what we need. I'm sure no one else in the world has that problem, right?