baby clothes
I'm sure I have that dino onesie somewhereLadies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please? I have a confession to make. My name is Jeanne Sager, and I am a baby clothes hoarder.

Upstairs in the half-attic of my house are tubs, giant plastic tubs, filled to the brim with clothes. Sure, half of them have the "yet to be grown into" hand-me-downs and outfits I've snatched up on sale. But I'm not talking about those tubs. I'm talking about the other half. The half-filled with duds sized infant to 12 months.

Pull up the top and peer inside, and you'll find a colorful array of the most perfect, teeny tiny treasures. That, right there? That is her first pair of Winnie the Pooh overalls. And that? That's the t-shirt my parents picked up for her in Germany. It says princess in German. And that? Oh that is her first Yankees jersey, bright pink with A-Rod's 13 on the back.

I could walk you through the piles by memory because these are my memories. My child is now 7, but I can still see her in those little jeans with the hearts on the butt.

The fact that she's an only child both explains this obsession and makes it a problem of the OMG, I have to confess this, y'all variety.

There will never be another baby in my house (no, really, we fixed that). I will never zip that maroon Virginia Tech sweatshirt over a plump little tummy, never slip that hat with the snowflakes on it over anyone's ears. With no baby to wear them, these tubs of clothes are just taking up space in a half-attic already cramped by all those baseball cards my husband hasn't gotten around to looking through to judge their value (ahem, honey, I'm betting it's around 200 ... cents).

But as I psychoanalyze myself, I realize the fact that these clothes belong to just one baby is why I can't let them go. Most moms pass their baby's clothes on out of necessity. They re-use outfits on baby number two because who can really afford not to?

I didn't have to do that. I passed plenty down because I love getting hand-me-downs myself, and it's a matter of good karma, but even some of those I (politely) requested return to me after they were done.

Because these clothes were my daughter's and only my daughter's, they're special to me. One day maybe I'll be able to let them go, but right now, I don't see the harm in crowding my attic. It's not like we need to put more baseball cards in there (just kidding Honey ... not really).

Do you have baby clothes you just can't let go of?

 

Image by Jeanne Sager