Originally posted on my old wordpress blog Jan. 13, 2011.
It’s well past 11 pm and I am still doing laundry. Kids are sleeping. Dog is sleeping. Husband is working. All’s quiet and I can see my laundry room floor. This is a good thing.
The kids’ dresser drawers have been nagging at me for some time, to the point that I don’t even want to put laundry away anymore. Each drawer is filled to the brim with little pants and shirts, socks and underpants, pajamas and hoodies. But none of them fit. Or, in my daughter’s case, many of them just don’t feeeeeeeel right. So the clean laundry sits on the guest room bed until my in-laws call to say they are coming in two days and then I dump it all in a basket and tuck it away someplace safe from peering eyeballs. This state of disarray has been a reality for so long that it feels normal to me to never have my laundry finished.
But tonight, perhaps while too deeply inhaling overly-Snuggled shirts from the dryer, I think I realized the problem. I don’t want my kids to grow up. Their little clothes that don’t fit anymore but still sit, stuffed in their dresser drawers, are the symptom of my denial that they are indeed growing up. And very fast! But here’s the thing. I think I really do want them to grow up . . . I think I should want them to grow up . . . I know that they will, eventually, grow up. I mean, that’s the goal, right? Maybe I’m afraid they will do what I did and move away from home when they are old enough. Maybe I’m afraid that the older they get, the older I get too. Maybe I’m afraid that tossing their things somehow fades memories. Or maybe I regret that time passes so quickly and I just want them to linger a bit longer in this stage when they want me in every moment of their world.
Whatever the case, I think I can finally start emptying drawers now. Does anybody need some clothes?
It’s well past 11 pm and I am still doing laundry. Kids are sleeping. Dog is sleeping. Husband is working. All’s quiet and I can see my laundry room floor. This is a good thing.
The kids’ dresser drawers have been nagging at me for some time, to the point that I don’t even want to put laundry away anymore. Each drawer is filled to the brim with little pants and shirts, socks and underpants, pajamas and hoodies. But none of them fit. Or, in my daughter’s case, many of them just don’t feeeeeeeel right. So the clean laundry sits on the guest room bed until my in-laws call to say they are coming in two days and then I dump it all in a basket and tuck it away someplace safe from peering eyeballs. This state of disarray has been a reality for so long that it feels normal to me to never have my laundry finished.
But tonight, perhaps while too deeply inhaling overly-Snuggled shirts from the dryer, I think I realized the problem. I don’t want my kids to grow up. Their little clothes that don’t fit anymore but still sit, stuffed in their dresser drawers, are the symptom of my denial that they are indeed growing up. And very fast! But here’s the thing. I think I really do want them to grow up . . . I think I should want them to grow up . . . I know that they will, eventually, grow up. I mean, that’s the goal, right? Maybe I’m afraid they will do what I did and move away from home when they are old enough. Maybe I’m afraid that the older they get, the older I get too. Maybe I’m afraid that tossing their things somehow fades memories. Or maybe I regret that time passes so quickly and I just want them to linger a bit longer in this stage when they want me in every moment of their world.
Whatever the case, I think I can finally start emptying drawers now. Does anybody need some clothes?
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