Two-topic Monday

Topic no. 1. Growth. Or something.

I gave away all of my maternity clothes and most of Brody's baby clothes yesterday.

It hurts to even write those words.

A woman at work sent an email asking for maternity clothes donations for pregnant teenagers. I replied. We arranged for her to pick them up. Then I asked if they needed baby clothes too. She replied even faster and said "Yes!"

I had no idea we had so much maternity and baby clothing in our house. Granted, a lot of it was inherited from girlfriends who recycled their clothes to me. But still.

A few pieces even had the price tags still on because I never got to wear them. I was expecting to be pregnant for 2 more months, after all.

It was more difficult than I thought. I held each piece and remembered how happy I was to be finally buying maternity clothes. It was like I was buying maternity clothes for all 4 pregnancies, instead of just the one.

I saved a few of Brody's clothes. A few pieces that I especially loved, including the preemie outfit with the bears on the feet that was too big for him. It still has formula stains on it. I held it up for Jeremy and asked him if Brody was ever really that small? He smiled this sad little half-smile and shook his head.

Once the items were collected in one spot, we had seven large storage crates empty and ready to be filled up again, and ten bags of clothing. I even found a few pregnancy books and the free diaper bag they gave me at the hospital. I put the books in the bag and set them all out.

Surveying the carnage, Jeremy said, "I can see why we have no money."

It made me laugh.

But I was letting go of a lot. I have let go of a lot.

I gently saved these clothes because I just assumed I would need them again.

I stood over them, and instead of being bitter and sad, I forced myself to send wishes with them. I wished that the girls who wear the clothes have enough love, support and money to raise their children. I wished them years of happiness, and health, and love. I wished the babies who will wear Brody's clothes love and health and light and safety.

We ran out to get brunch and then saw my co-worker - and one of the pregnant teens - in the car leaving with the clothes. They thanked us sweetly and profusely, which helped. I asked if they saw the pregnancy books in the diaper bag.

Coworker: "YES! She is reading one of them right now!"

at the same time, grinning pregnant teen: "Oh my gosh, thank you!"

I feel good to have done this.

Topic no. 2. Brodyism.

We are potty training.

sigh.

Frankly, I wouldn't mind if he stayed in diapers. I really would rather that than have to ask 1500 times "do you have to go potty?" then take him to do it.

Not to mention cleaning up accidents off our floor and carpet.

And potty training is of no interest to anyone except other parents, as it should be.

However, there is one point that is comical for all here.

When Brody uses the potty, he gets an M&M (or 5).

Sunday, we were driving to Jeremy's lacrosse game. Jeremy didn't feel well. We stopped on the way to the field for him to use the bathroom.

It was the 7-11 or the portapotty, so I convinced him that 7-11 would be infinitely the lesser evil.

He came back out to the car after.

"Did you go?" I asked.

sigh. "Yes," Jeremy replied, "I did."

Brody: (from the backseat) Daddy gets a em-a-em!!!