It’s 80 degrees in March which means the seasonal shifting of clothing from plastic bin to plastic bin starts much sooner than usual. Up the basement stairs, sort, sort in front of a little Bravo in the living room. Unfold, remember when oldest son wore the sweet Easter Jon Jon outfit and the t-shirt with the big crab on it. Can’t believe baby can fit into 2T already. Silently squeal inside at the toddler sized Lilly Pulitzer Hawaiian shirt scored at the consignment store over the winter (can I find a matching dress for his sister?). Glad for the planning ahead when it comes to the seersucker swimsuit for daughter, bought on sale from Crewcuts. Upstairs, can’t put away everything in the drawers until the winter clothes are sorted and stored for little brother, or in the case of big sister, given away. Can’t just give away a big bag of clothes to one little girl, all the items are sorted for each little girl’s style (preppy for Eloise, Tea for Chloe, Jacadi and anything French for Eveline, Gymboree and Mini Boden for Sofi and fabulous dresses and skirts and nightgowns and lots of shoes for Gracie). Oldest also has to try on all of her summer clothes, which seem awfully short, so guess that bin won’t be put away until she has the stamina to try on lots of clothes for mom to scrutinize.
Plastic bins. Grateful for the hand me downs for the boys, from 3 different families of boys. Especially grateful to my neighbor’s Aunt Jule, who stocked up on Talbots Kids before they went out of business. But why did I save so many windpants from Old Navy and Kohl’s to be stored for the next five years for the baby to grow into? Plastic bins all over the house. Can’t store too much away because we’ll get another cold snap. This is New England.
And these are my babies, and they are growing up.