Clothesing the door

L is done with his semester, which is about ten different kinds of awesome, and I am now waiting patiently for the part where life suddenly becomes perfect and easy and bags of money fall out of the sky.  I’m pretty sure it’s going to happen tomorrow.  Right now though, even with another functioning parent in the house there is just a shit-ton to do and not enough hours in the day in which to do it.  This seems to stem from the fact that someone around here has let a few (hundred) things slide since August, and everything is an utter and complete mess.  She will most likely be fired, or at the very least be given a steep cut in pay.

One of the days I actually accomplished something around here was last week when Noah had the Mystery Fever. (High enough to miss school, no other symptoms, did not seem to impede normal house-vibrating activity.) He lounged on my bed watching Christmas movies and/or YouTube videos of submarines while I folded and put away the stacks and stacks of clothes that had accumulated over several weeks where apparently I was regarding drawers as merely clothes storage “suggestions.”  Not only did I have just about every article of clothing that I own to put away, both kids had a teetering heap or two. And in addition to all that was a nefarious pile of clothes that I had been diligently avoiding at all costs: the mound of Clothes Which Have Been Outgrown.  In a house with two kids under the age of five, that mound grows like bacteria on a warm petri dish.

The issue of too-small clothes was not a hard one when Noah was smaller.  I took them and laid them aside and boxed them up in cardboard boxes labeled with Sharpie marker.  Newborn. Six to nine months. Two-tee.  It was a no-brainer, the fact that these clothes would be carefully stored away.  One, because I planned on having more kids, and two, because I had some sort of swami-predicted like feeling that I would be the mother of boys and only boys. So saving those blue shirts and truck-printed pjs seemed wise.  Now as I look at the hangers of tiny infant dresses and long-outgrown bloomers I feel a hesitancy about what to do. Save two sets of baby clothing?  Who has the room? We only have two huge closets! And a barely filled attic! And…oh. Well I guess we do have the room for a few boxes of onesies.

So why are they still taking up space on my floor and on my dressers, gathering dust?

I was pondering this as Noah lay engrossed in some aquatic adventure on the bed.  Just consign the clothes and buy new ones later!  I thought.  No! Save everything!  No! Carefully pack away the best pieces and donate the rest! No! Consign! No! Donate! No! Save! Consign! Save! Do nothing! Have some cookies!

And then it hit me with an OOF.  It wasn’t about the clothes.  It was about the kid.

That kid, that imaginary kid that exists or doesn’t exist in my future.  That kid who would wear these carefully folded sleepers and knit hats.  That kid who would be a girl. Or a boy. Or who wouldn’t be at all.

Do I want more kids?

I thought I did.  I always imagined I would have three kids.  I have a brother and a sister, L has a brother and a sister.  Somehow that was what family looked like to me in my head.  L and me and our three (or four? or five?) kids and a bustling, happy, busy household.  And those sky-fallen bags of cash. In fact, when I would envision our family as “only” a two kid family, it seemed melancholy.  Like we would be lonely.  Missing someone. Incomplete.

Right now I can’t conjure up that feeling.  I think about our family in the future and I can see us as a family of four, and for the first time it doesn’t feel wrong.  And while that’s not a decision about anything, it’s certainly different than I ever felt before, and that’s definitely given me pause.  What if we’re all already here?  What if we’re not waiting on anyone else to fill those miniature garments?  What if I don’t have any more kids?  What if?

Do I want more kids?

This room may be a clothes-strewn mess for a long time yet.


1 Leigh Ann { 12.14.09 at 10:02 am }

OMG, rachel…YOU ARE IN MY HEAD!! well, you are in my head from 6 months ago. i had all of those EXACT thoughts. but finally, just a few weeks ago, i was done mourning the child that might be. our family feels complete. perfect, in fact. course that means patrick has to take care of the birth control…hee hee…as soon as we get some money…does insurance pay for that? they should.

good luck with your decision…take your time.

2 Ryann { 12.20.09 at 5:58 am }

is it too late to get my hubby to do that? haha, jk. it just seems like a great idea as i sit here w/ the worst back cramps EVER vowing that i will NEVER be pregnant again!

as for rach, you’ve got plenty of time to make a kid decision–don’t sweat it. and the clothes–i would put my faves in a box and consign the rest. hey, it could just be that big bag of money falling out of the sky :).

3 gossamer { 01.01.10 at 11:13 pm }

Please have more kids. The earth thanks you.

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