What is it About Baby Clothes...

that make me oh so nostalgic?  When you have two children and a small house with very little closet space you find yourself packing up baby clothes every three months to make a trip upstairs to the attic.  Because those baby clothes, much to your shock and amazement no longer fit.  How could that pair of corduroy overalls no longer fit my little man?  I mean I just took off the tags a few months ago and now it's time to pack them up to join their smaller textile buddies in the attic?  And it makes me sad....  Vincent is no longer an infant but a baby who will morph into a toddler before I know it.

The nostalgia hits as you look at and touch those baby clothes because they conjure up so many images.  Baby Sophia crawling, baby Vincent fussing on his tummy, baby Vincent coming home from the hospital, baby Sophia learning to walk, Vincent out of a bath, smelling delicious,dressed for bed and being rocked in my arms, Sophia napping.  They are tangible reminders of how small they truly were and subsequently how much bigger they now are.  A sometimes unwelcome reminder that they are growing more independent day by day.  Vincent and Sophia, are like the cidada, shedding their own little shells of clothes, moving on to bigger accomplishments.  And as I am writing this I am convicted because I know that I am impatient at times - rushing them on to this bigger accomplishments.  Wanting Vincent to learn to move from his tummy to a sitting position, wanting him to perfect crawling so that he can get where his heart desires, wanting Sophia to play more independently.  Why do I do that?  Why do I rush them out of this sweet time?  Because all too soon, it will be gone and I will want that time back.

Back to clothes - each outfit reminds me of the care I took in choosing it in the store or the thoughtfulness of the giver.  Clothes - it's one way we show pride in our children, isn't it?  And don't get me wrong, it's not the pricetag, it's the care we take in dressing them.  I will never forget how my first outpatient 3 year old student, Martin (name changed to protect the innocent :)) was dressed the day he showed up for his first speech therapy session.  His family did not have much money but he was all dapper in his starched off-brand Wranglers, his pressed collared shirt tucked into a hand-me-down braided belt that almost wrapped around his waist twice.  And the hat!  A cowboy hat two times his size that perfectly matched the brown boots on his feet.  Mom was ready to show her baby off and to prove that his speech delay was no reflection of the care they gave him at home.  As we settled on to the floor to read a book, I removed his hat and pulled him beside me, catching the strong scent of cologne.  This was a family that cared, of that I was sure.  And his progress in speech therapy, as a result, was astounding.  He was and will always be one of my favorite students.

As I fold up Vincent's 0-3 month and 3-6 month baby clothes I find myself unable to pack up certain outfits. Maybe he can wear them just a little longer? They are just too sweet.  So, nursery workers and Mother's Day Out teachers please forgive me if my children are looking a little snug in those onesies, overalls, and dresses, I just can't part with them yet.  But hopefully the care we take in dressing and grooming our children will be tiny proof, albeit superficial proof, of how much we care.  Just as was the case with my little Martin.