The Seasonal Job
I boxed up some of Hazel's size 5 clothes today to make room for the size 6 ones. It is never a job I like, because it involves too many decisions: Is this too worn out? Does this one still fit? Should I put it away anyway, since all the others will be away? Will this be out of style when I have another daughter? Will I have another daughter? (so you can see what I mean). Then, I'm always leaving things out like jackets or pajamas, socks or underwear that never seem to make it to the right box. But each season the job creeps up on me again, demanding my very soul.
The worst part of this seasonal job is the emotional catastrophe it is for Hazel's heart and mind. I swear to you, I never do anything as hurtful as I do when I pack her clothing away.
"But Mom I just like this one so much! Mom these still fit! I just really really really love these Mom."
"Dearie, I'm not getting rid of them, they'll still be in this box, they're just a little small."
"But I still want to wear them! They're good! I just love these sooooooo much Mom! I just want to wear them still!"
And no matter what I say, and how nicely I say it, and how many times I show her the great new things she'll also fall in love with, I have still (and will every six months or so) broken her heart by packing those funny clothes away for the next (maybe) daughter who will (maybe) wear them. Ahh, resourcefulness.