Round 1 Goes to the Pip

Today I thought I would be writing a post about how I spent my first night away from Pippi last night -- I had to be out of town for a meeting, so she and Junius were home with my husband and my in-laws. Although I've spent a few nights away from Juni, it was the first time that Pippi and I slept under different roofs in her entire little life.

But as it turns out, my night away was pretty uneventful for both of us -- and I had to be up so early for the meeting that I didn't even get to enjoy some extra sleep.

So instead, I'm going to write about this cute little outfit (shown at left), which is what Pippi was supposed to wear to preschool today. As it turned out, she wore the pants -- along with the pajama top she'd slept in the night before.

Why? Because she flat-out refused to take off her pajamas. I wasn't here to witness the struggle, but apparently neither my MIL nor my husband could wrestle her out of the jammie shirt. My husband (wisely) determined that it was not a battle worth waging.

After I stopped laughing at the vision of Nonna and Daddy trying to pin down our not-yet-two-but-thinks-she's-a-five-year-old daughter, I tried to figure out two things:

1. What about the cute outfit was so offensive to her? Did she remember that (although it's a Carter's brand) I bought it at Costco? Does she think mixing pink with chocolate brown is too trendy? Was she worried the leggings made her tushie look big?

2. How many battles are she and I going to have about her clothes over the next 16 years? And will I have enough sense to let her win the ones that don't really hurt anything so that I have the energy to conquer her stubbornness in the wars that make a difference?

At the end of the day, it really didn't matter what she wore to preschool today. In fact, some of her toddler clothes aren't so different than her pajamas -- and I'm sure her teachers love her no matter what she has on. But I can see the day coming when what she wears (or doesn't wear) Is going to make a difference in how others see her -- a skirt that's too short, a shirt that's too tight, a face-piercing. Ugh. I am so not ready for her teen years.

So I think I'm going to start working out now. Because clearly I'm going to need to be a lot stronger than she is if I'm going to win the wrestling matches yet to come.

Growing boy

I think consignment sales are great for baby and toddler clothes -- especially in the first two years, babies grow through the clothes so fast that they hardly get messed up and it doesn't make sense to spend a lot on new clothes. Every time I go to a consignment sale, I think about all the things I have stored away in closets and the attic and I promise that next time I'll bring some items to consign.

And so now that Junius is 3 1/2, I'm finally forcing myself to make good on that promise. Earlier today I started wading through the three large storage bins filled with baby boy clothes -- I've already passed along the generous hand-me-downs we received from friends, but there were plenty of things left that seemed like good candidates for a sale.

As I sorted through the clothes, I realized I was putting more pieces back in the bin than I was pulling out. Every time I looked at a little striped romper or tiny velcro sandals, all I could see was my sweet baby Junius. It was the outfit he wore on his first day of preschool, the swimsuit he wore for his first trip to the beach, the shoes he wore when he started walking on his own. I was amazed at how many things I'd forgotten that came rushing back, the clothes serving as photo reminders of how much he's grown. Keeping the clothes makes no sense, but somehow giving them away started to feel like letting go of my baby.

And that's exactly what I have to do.

He's trying so hard to be big -- writing his name (or at least a backwards "jumpin J"), riding his bike, using the potty, sleeping through the night (thank goodness!) -- and it's my job to help him, even if that just means getting out of the way. Even though it's scary sometimes, it's also exciting to watch him grow. And keeping his baby clothes isn't going to slow anything down.

The clothes he's wearing these days aren't likely to make it as hand-me-downs -- his jeans have holes in the knees and his shoes are so stinky that I have to keep them outside. So I will keep just a few favorites from those crazy baby days and let go of the rest.

Who knows? Maybe one day I'll have a grandson who can wear that seersucker onesie from Junius' first portrait -- it's the one that my mother-in-law saved from when my husband was a baby. Guess I'm not the only mommy who had trouble letting go of her baby boy.