Thursday, 26 February 2009

Moving on...

I've been thinking about progression a lot recently. This may of course have something to do with the fact that spring is in the air, the crocuses and snowdrops are making merry in the gardens, and the birds are even tweetier than normal in the mornings, but I think it's more than that. With Boy #2 now 3 years old, the Baby Years are well and truly behind me.

My gorgeous younger son pointed out to me this morning that he's 'not a baby anymore'. He's 'a big boy now...' Tempting as it was to point out that that was debateable given the fact I was helping him into his nappy at the time, I kept schtum and agreed with him. Because he is indeed growing up.

Just before Christmas, he moved into a proper bed, and last month we sold the cot. I had been planning on giving it to charity; it's perfectly serviceable despite the fact that it's been through 4 children that I know of - not all mine, obviously - and would no doubt be fine for at least a couple more. But, and did you know this; charities in the UK will no longer accept cots unless you provide a brand-spanking-new-not-yet-out-of-the-wrapping mattress alongside it. Well, I'm very happy to donate a cot. I was even willing to deliver it. But add another £40 on top of that? Would you?

Then, we passed on the pantechnicon buggy that we used for both the boys, to some friends. I've railed about it over the years as being too big, too cumbersome, too difficult to break down, but I was still sad to see it go. I even asked Husband if he would like to say goodbye to it after I liberated it from it's temporary house in the unused spare shower and wheeled it past him to the car.

Men. I don't think I need to tell you what his answer was? Which is just typical since he was the one who wanted the blasted thing in the first place, falling for it's slick tyres, handbrakes, bicycle bell and off-road appeal. What was I thinking to say yes to that purchase? In the 5 years we've had it, apart from the odd foray across the wilds of Hyde and Holland Parks, there was as much chance of our going off-road in Kensington and Chelsea as there was of my growing 4 inches and being recruited as a supermodel...

So, the buggy is gone. I hope the new family look after it properly...

(What am I saying? It's an inaminate object, for chrissake!)

Cot, then buggy, and finally yesterday I went through Boy #2's clothes, consigning anything marked '2 years' or 'toddler' to the 'offload onto sister-in-law' pile. Then I went to the cupboard and pulled out all Boy #1's long outgrown aged 3 clothes and put them in the cupboard instead. Pretty straightforward, wouldn't you agree? Well, I was fine with it until I realised that that was it. The last of the baby / toddler clothes gone. No need to hold onto them any longer. Which is a bit sad.

Though I have to wonder if I might have left swapping the clothes over just a little too long. I thought that his previous wardrobe was still fine on him, but the fact that Boy #2's new 'aged 3' clothes just about fit him perfectly suggests that the 'aged 2' 3/4 length sleeves he's been wearing for the last couple of months weren't actually meant to be that short...


  1. I know what you mean. My husband keeps finding baby paraphernalia and asking why we still have it, the steriliser, pushchairs in the garage, stairgates etc.

    My heart felt heavy when I saw him binning a bib covered in orange stains.

    I must be mad!

  2. It's the end of an era really, leaving behind the baby years. And it is sad when you know you won't experience it again (until grandchildren many many years away!)But the years ahead will be equally exciting and far less exhausting I promise you!

  3. I keep reading/hearing reflections like this and making mental note to appreciate the time with my two the moment its bliss. I already got nostalgic from putting away their new new new baby clothes....

  4. Phew - when I read that title I was worried that YOU were moving on.

    Thank goodness you're staying put!

  5. I'm sorry, Rosie Scribble - what was that? Far less exhausting?! Different, yes, but... )-;

    We've finally managed to give away the bunk beds which have languished, sans mattress, in the loft for the last 2 or 3 years. Nobody wanted them before and I couldn't throw them away. But our downstairs neighbours were complaining that the new ones they'd bought had had to go back because they were 2 inches too long. Ah, I said. We have some that are 2 inches shorter. I knew, because we had had to chop a bit off. Problem solved.

  6. I know how you feel! When we moved recently I parted ways with our 3 pushchairs (including my beloved orange bugaboo), baby bjorns, diaper bags, pottys, baby blankets, baby toys - and a whole host of other highly nostalgic crap. It was great to no longer have to find the room for it all but was a hard reminder that the days of babydom are long gone and the days of rampaging, nose picking, name calling big boys is here to stay.

  7. It IS sad. I have packed away bottles, pushchairs and baby blankets recently in preparation for our move, and felt very emotional, although I'm glad not to have a new baby to look after at the moment.

    On the subject of clothes - Littleboy 2 is still wearing some 12-18 month size clothes and he is 2....other clothes seem to fit both of them. It really seems to depend on what shop they come from and whether they shrink in the wash!

  8. I wouldn't have given the cot to charity either. They are getting sooooo picky aren't they! It's 'charity'! Hello?

  9. Oh my goodness, the cot and the buggy. How symbolic are they? I'm only just coming to terms with the fact that all mine will be in school after the summer. Given that I had the first nearly 12 years ago, it's been a long era. Hard to say goodbye to.

  10. I'm amazed about the charities. I gave my cot to a local charity last summer (without a mattress) and they were very grateful. When I said it would need a mattress, they said they would get a new one with their funds - why can't other charities do that? At least they would get a cot for free.

  11. The worst time for me was when middle child's high chair was so beaten up that we had to throw it out. I actually saw it being chewed up into the compactor thingy. Like a dagger to the heart. But then I went and had another one 7 years later didn't I and had to bed borrow and steal everything.

  12. It is sad to pack away the baby days but it comes to us all ;-( But, worse is to come, just wait until THEY pack their things and leave home ... that is really heart-wrenching even though, deep down, you know that it's the best thing for them and a tiny part of you even wants them to go! Spoken as an 'empty-nester' now hoping for grandchildren.

    This bit is more in response to Rosie Scribble's comment - less exhausting? Physically, maybe, but mentally, I don't think so. In fact during my boys' teen years I looked back on the Terrible Twos with nostalgia. At least then they could be put to bed 'because I said so' and could be bodily removed from a room or situation if necessary! The years to come will be exciting, and different, but no, definitely not less exhausting.

  13. Laura, I know! Why do we get so attached to such scabby old stuff?

    Rosie, having read some of the comments subsequent to yours , I can only hope you're right!

    Screamish, don't talk to me about tiny baby gros and muslins. I can feel myself filling up.

    Mud, staying put for the moment, at any rate!

    GPM, now THAT's what I call effective recycling. And you didn't even have to carry them far, result!

    Nicola, ah, happy times ahead, huh???

    NVG, definitely. In my experience, M&S shrinks, Gap does not. Apart from the socks, which whilst they last longer than most others, do... I could write a (very boring) blog about it...

    Aims, so true. Still, at least I made £40 out of it.

    Iota, sometimes I dread that day, other times (like today), I think of it with much anticipation!

    WM - which charity was that? (Not that I have anything left to give for the moment)

    EPM, for some reason that makes me think of the episode of Friends with Phoebe and the christmas trees (mind you, there's an episode of Friends for practically everything, isn't there?).

    Sharon, I know you're right. Apparantly after I left home (I was the first to do so) my mum closed my bedroom door and didn't go in there for 3 weeks.

  14. Babyhood wasn't my favorite stage of my children's childhood, so I didn't feel all that nostalgic about it. Later on I felt nostalgia, when they brought home drawings from school and special assignments and they started wearing their cub scout uniforms and sport's team gear. Girl scout badges and medals for running track. Those things became very precious to me. I don't know where they are now. Their father probably has them. That happens in broken families.


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