What is this?
This is a year of my life.
I am very good about once Gabe grows out of something to put it away. After doing laundry yesterday, the plastic zipper bag our comforter came in, became too full. We had to move on to an XL vacuum bag. I, of course, went through all the clothes, getting teary eyed. "Ohhhh Nate! Remember when he was this small??" Every outfit had a memory and a story. It sounds weird but I get very attached to clothes. I can remember the exact clothes I was wearing for any event in my life. I remember when and where I bought that Beatles tube top that I couldn't ever wear. I remember the Atlanta '96 t shirt my mom's friend gave me, and when you unfocus your eyes, the confetti on it looks like it's dancing. I am sentimental about clothes. I can't get rid of said Atlanta shirt that is a child's small or the Beatles tube top. I can't get rid of the very '80's pink and purple flower shirt that when you breathe hot air onto it, the flowers change colors. My cousin gave it to me when I was little. I have stacks of shirts like this. That I'll never wear, but I can't get rid of. They mean too much to me. I'm finding that I'm doing the same to my son. "But Nate, he wore this outfit the last time he ever saw Rachel." or "His 'Baby's First Easter' bunny outfit? Are you crazy?!" and so on. Nate tried to help me justify it all by saying "Well, I guess we might have another boy... don't want to have to buy new clothes..." That's what he thinks. :)
Completely unrelated, but while still doing laundry, Gabe was "helping" me fold and got a little stuck. The progression:
Before you call CPS on me, it's mesh ok? He could breathe. He looks really creepy like that doesn't he?