I had one job. One little job, and I couldn’t do it. Given the task by Hubby, all I needed to do was take the bins full of the clothes the kids have outgrown and move them to Space Bags. I left Hubby in charge of the kids and headed upstairs to start packing; however, a few minutes into digging in those bins and this is how he found me……
My entire life I’ve been looking two steps ahead for the next big thing to plan and get ready for. Take the slave-driver that put me in this awful clothes-induced mess. Once I knew he was “the one,” I was sending him engagement rings pictures signed from the dog (hilarious). Once I got the ring, it was non-stop wedding planning. You have no idea how happy I am that the time sucking vortex Pinterest did not exist back then. I may not have made it out of wedding planning with a husband to wed. No time for the honeymoon phase here, once the wedding was over, I was in full on baby making mode. But when those sweet babes arrived and introduced me to sleepless nights and stretch marks, I wanted to slam on the brakes, stop time, and enjoy their little lives without rushing through.
Am I being a bit over dramatic, perhaps. Am I too emotional, yup. Have I become an emotions tramp just giving out my affections to everyone? Just give me a “hello my name is…” sticker.
Hubby was being completely unrealistic and tried to pry the clothes out of my hands. After he suggested we just get rid of everything for the tenth time, I decided to let go of the vice gripe I had on his man parts when he saw the error of his ways and simply walked away from the crazy lady. He forced me to finish the job, but not before I pulled out a few of my favs to stash them away.
I love this coat. I love everything about this orange, puffy jacket that Monkey wore when he was one. I rescued it from the piles of clothes because I can’t bear to put it back in the attic. I have plans for this little coat, you see. When he leaves me for college, I will wrap this coat around a pillow and cry myself to sleep in this coat. You may think this is a bit much, but I think it is a sign of a good mom when you can admit this sort of
obsession unhealthy attachment love.
When I made my way over to the bins that were overflowing with pink, ruffles and tutus, I knew there was one gem I needed to find. One of the first things I bought when I found out I washaving a girl was this itsy, bitsy bikini. Mimi wore it on her first few trips to the beach. Here she is at only three weeks old napping and rocking that bikini.
I just want to squeeze that tiny newborn and sniff her sweet head. Her second birthday is coming up fast (sniff…sniff), and I want to slow down this little lady from getting too big too fast. I love this bikini and I love this picture. When she is a teenager and says awful, terrible things to me and rolls her eyes 937 times a day, I will snuggle this bikini and remember the sweet babe that adored me and refused to be held by anyone else….then I will drink…heavily because I don’t think I can handle a teenage daughter. A revealing bikini on a newborn is adorable and makes me teary to see. However, a too revealing bikini on a teenage Mimi will send me into a fit and I will be forced to drag her sweet ass off the beach by her ponytail.
Now it’s your turn! Tell me what you have kept of your kids that makes you an emotions tramp.
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