I hear a door swinging shut; I am watching it. It has not closed yet, and it is not slamming, more of a lazy screen door drifting shut on a summer night. Nonetheless it is closing, and while if you rush you could, maybe, slip your fingers in and grab it as it hangs there, before it latches, it is closing.
Seasons of my life are changing; the baby stage is over. My youngest is THREE and my older FIVE. In 2005 when I first held that tiny almost blue 5 pound baby that struggled to latch and nurse there was no thought of a big five year old in my head. I am now lost among superheroes and action games, gone are the days gazing and coo-ing.
Today my three year old is certainly not a baby. I am blessed that he is still nursing strong; several times during the day and most of the night. He is still in diapers and only exploring the potty and demeaning to flush for everyone in the family (I don’t mind this, his brother did not potty train till after 4, but I am not going to call it a blessing in our lives). He is starting to talk; he is stripping and putting his dirty laundry in the basket. He can take things to the room requested and climb into his own car seat. Answering questions and making choices, he is no baby.
Last night we took down the crib, and stored it in the basement. Neither boy actually ever slept in the crib, but it still a definite milestone. The crib was our awesome changing table, and both boys hung out there for safety when small. Big Brother first thing in the day when I got dressed (he loved his mobile) and Little Brother when I needed a safe zone for him where Big could not grab him if I needed my hands free for a few minutes (usually to carry stuff up or down the stairs). Slept in or not, taking it down after 5.5 years is unquestionably a hard transition, a startling one. I w as actually surprised how big a transition it was for me, given neither boys used it, I as unprepared for my reaction. Big Brother got up this morning and demanded “what happened, where the crib, why is it gone”.
I was thinking, last night, after dismantling the crib (safely stored in the basement). The only baby clothing left in the house can be found in Memory Boxes. The coming home outfits, the first Christmas outfits, the first hats, all packed up, labeled and in the appropriate boy’s box. The only baby toys are likewise labeled and packed up for the boys when they get older (or more accurately their wives); the special ones the rest moved on to a family with twin boys 2 years younger than Little Brother. All the baby clothing (24 months and smaller) have been passed along to the twins so they can be of use to a family and not just sit in tubs in my basement. The highchair that Big Brother hated and Little Brother loved was sent to Goodwill this summer; same with the big play mat that used to go on the living room floor. Swing, infant car seat, and bouncy seats also moved on to the twins and are now gone.
My maternity clothing is all moved on to other moms that could use it. All the small and medium cloth diapers have like wise been passed along to another mom (a great young mom that has a girl under one and is already expecting her next blessing) that can use them rather than being left unused in a drawer. The large diapers will go to her too. I still have all my carriers and I still use the MT constantly. The sling I do not use, unless we baby-sit, but that I am keeping.
I am glad that all of the baby items (toys, clothing, diapers) have maintained their usefulness in another home. Nevertheless that means there is no baby stuff here; the crib was a dinosaur. Now that is taken down too. The door is almost shut.