Monday, March 19, 2012

Digging up Buried Treasures

Friday, I packed up most of the clothes James has outgrown (too quickly in my opinion).  

The N.C. State jersey we bought him when he finally revealed his boy parts to us on the ultra sound…

his first pair of “walking shoes”…
the Christmas JonJon he wore in the infamous Santa Photo Opp Gone Wrong

and the sun hats and swim trunks we wore on the beach last summer.  

All too small, too short, too tight.  I piled socks smelling of the baby laundry detergent, baby-food-stained onesies, and “My First ______” bibs into a plastic Rubbermaid container, snapped the lid closed, and rolled it under the bed with the others – Newborn to 3 months, 3 to 6 months, and 6 to 9 months.  But what had started out as a simple task to complete in order to make room for the newer, bigger, spring wardrobe ended up as a weepy goodbye to everything infant.  
This blog tells the story.  James isn’t a baby anymore.  
3 weeks old

18 months old
photo.JPG - Gmail I still have ALL photo.JPG - Gmailphoto.JPG - Gmail of James’ things.  I’m a self-proclaimed hoarder.  My tendencies are not nearly as severe as A&E’s version but I cling to anything and everything with sentimental value – the lei I received on a family trip to Hawaii in ’04, the airline ticket from our Honeymoon in Belize, every one of my friends’ wedding invitations.  But when it comes to James I stockpile every memory like little buried treasures – tucked away in keepsake boxes on the shelf, photo-books on the coffee table, plastic containers under the bed, memory sticks in the desk drawer.  

 The thing is I actually don’t pull them back out that often.  Yeah, maybe on occasion when I’m putting up or taking down Christmas decorations, packing up clothes that no longer fit, or trying to find room for more stuff to feed my hoarding obsessions.  But I never just sit down on the couch after a long day at work or on a lazy Sunday afternoon, pull out all these things I consider so valuable and admire them or reminisce about that day.   So this weekend I started thinking and then I kept thinking about how I was going to change the way I buried treasures and rarely dug them up.  With a little help from pinterest and a little inspiration from a senior gift a friend received for graduation years ago, I decided to take some of James’ most memorable clothes and create a James Original.
pinterest version of my idea

Love the idea of using old clothes to spell out "James" (just in case another quilt is ever needed)
There’s no doubt about it.  I can’t make time stand still.  The world will never stop spinning, waiting for me to savor each time James curls up in my lap before bedtime smelling like baby shampoo.  I can’t relish in all the afternoons at the park, always truly listen to every “Row row row…row row roooow” (James’ version of row your boat), or commit to memory each and every melt-your heart laugh and smirk-y smile.  James is going to keep growing.  He’ll eventually lose the baby-talk and the baby-fat and maybe acquire an obsession with soccer and football.  There are going to be plenty of more days filled with impromptu plans ending with stained shirts that serve as friendly reminders of that awesome hotdog at the ballgame or how wonderful the grass felt on the first day of spring.  And I look forward to those days with just as much excitement as the ones I’m now looking back on because the old treasures will be a part of the new memories.   
Whether we’re using the quilt as a roof for our fort, 

Another Idea from pinterest
or to keep us warm during early morning football tailgates
 It will never be shelved or closeted or buried under the bed.  And someday far far away from now (I hope) when James is out with friends or off at college and the house is quiet I’ll curl up on the couch to watch a movie with Eddie, wrapped up in the comfort of all the little treasures that I didn’t simply bury.

1 comment:

  1. I made the girls each a quilt out of their first yr pj's. It is worth all the time it takes to cut,iron, and sew! James will love it... And so will mom.