One of the best things about being a mom is watching your child grow up.

One of the worst things about being a mom is watching your child grow up.

Every mom grieves a little as her child passes from babyhood to toddlerdom, from preschooler to grade school. For me, the bittersweet feeling of saying goodbye to yet another life stage is strongest in September, not just because my son’s birthday is that month, but because of the start of a new school year. As summer’s heat dissipates and autumn’s chill moves in, I pull out my son’s long-sleeve shirts, pants, and sweaters. Most of last year’s clothes no longer fit him, although he’s still happy to wear them. Just last week he went to school wearing 4T pants and shirt; his ankles and wrists stuck out about three inches, a testament to his summer growth spurt. I’m sure he got a few strange looks for his I-shopped-at-Goodwill-outfit, but whatever.

I cycle the smaller sizes out of his closet, replacing them with the newer, larger sizes. He rarely asks after the missing pieces, although he’s now paying more attention to his clothing than ever before. But then, his interest mostly lies in making sure he gets to wear a “picture shirt” rather than a plain or striped one. No, the angst is all on my part as I fold up those shirts and pants that no longer cover his elongated limbs, gazing at each to imprint it onto my memory. It’s a sad little act of parting, a sartorial mini-death.

I try not to be sentimental, but I mourn each item as I place it lovingly in the plastic coffin—at least the fourth of its number—for interment into the dark bowels of the basement crawl space.

For I lay these pieces to rest only temporarily, hopefully to be resurrected in renewed splendor someday for Baby #2, and a chance to relive the sweet stages of childhood.

Last 5 posts by OrganizerMom

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