Over the last week or two, our little (almost-13lb) guy suddenly seemed to be reaching the tips of the toes in his sleepers and stretching those 0-3 month onesies taut at the seams. To prevent my mother from cutting the feet out of his PJs as she's threatened to do, I pulled out all the clothes in the next size up to go through and get it ready for wearing. That involved washing several loads of old, new, borrowed and blue clothes over the last few days. And think about it, this is baby clothes. Do you know how many itty bitty socks and teeny tiny t-shirts it takes to make up a large load in washer? A lot. An entire basket full in fact.
My first thought as I stacked the final load on top of the ones before it was "What??!!! When did my skinny little chicken turn into a chunky little monkey??" I remember hanging up all the new little outfits bestowed upon the little man from family and friends, thinking it'd be ages and ages before he'd fit into it. I remember sorting through barely-worn hand-me-downs, picking out the 0-3 months stuff and tossing the rest back into the bags for "months from now". Somehow, when I wasn't looking, those months have gone by. All those parents who warned me that the clock speeds up once babes arrive were right. If I could only find Father Time, I'd ask him to fix that up, y'all.
My second thought looking at that basket brimming with clothes was that all those parents were also right when they urged me to live in the moment because before you know it those moments are gone. When we first brought Hudson home, I'd lay him on my chest and his little toes would curl up into my belly button, he was so tiny. Now, albeit still tiny, his little toes rest on my hips and I know it won't be long until they're resting on my knees. I hate anyone touching my belly button (one of my many quirks), yet somehow I miss his toes resting there just so. And, while I'm grateful for getting more sleep now that we've moved him into his nursery, I already miss having Hudson lie next to me in the bed as he napped and I tried to do the same. Looking at the boxed up newborn clothes next to the large basket of 3-6 month stuff just reminded me to enjoy the moments we have now, even when they're challenging (like not sleeping and being so exhausted you cry because he's napping next to you in the bed), as much too soon they've passed.
|my little guy wearing his big boy clothes|
So, during last night's 4am feeding, instead of heading back to my own bed as soon as I could, I decided to live in that moment, awake and tired, knowing there will be sleep-filled nights in my future once again while these warm snuggles in the wee hours will be only a memory. Instead of curling back up under my covers, I stared at him just a little longer than usual. I kissed his sweet cheeks. I smelled his head full of hair. I touched his dimply elbows. And I held him close long after he'd gone back to sleep.
All because of a mundane basket of old, new, borrowed and blue laundry.