I took a day off recently to clean out the closet in Punkin's room. Since I had the time and the motivation, I cleaned out her dresser, toy basket and stuffed animal basket, too. After sorting through everything and cleaning up the mess, I vacuumed and dusted her room. The whole process took me three hours from start to finish. I felt like I had truly accomplished something. There was nothing "extra" in the room, things looked neat and orderly.

Naturally, there were a lot of items that she had grown out off, clothes and toys. The clothes were gone through one item at a time. Does this still fit? Does she still wear it? Is it season-appropriate? It had been a while since I "properly" weeded out her clothes, and a lot of them had just been stuffed into her closet. There were clothes there that she hadn't worn for about six months. Some of the clothes I didn't even pause over, into the plastic bag they went. Some clothes were special because of who gave them to her, or how she looked in them. Those are the ones that I got wistful over. She is growing up so fast. Long gone are the cute little "baby" clothes. Now she has "little people" clothes, some of which I wished they made in Mommy sizes. Not so we could be twins, but because they just look so darned comfortable.

The toys were inspected and put into three categories. Keep in the toy basket, pack away in the closet, and off to The Salvation Army. I didn't really get wistful over the toys at all… until I spotted a couple of toys that are soft and squishy and colored in the baby pastels that remind me they were purchased before we knew if our Punkin would be a boy or a girl, before the birth of the Three Ring Circus at all. I picked one of the favorites up and remembered how tiny she was when we came home as a family for the first time. It wasn't quite raining out, mostly a strong mist, and it was chilly. She was all wrapped up with just her little red face poking out. She was almost too small for her car seat. This little "dog-bunny" as we called it, watched over her in her crib, her playpen, and accompanied us on car trips.

Now our Punkin sleeps in her Tigger pajamas with a "cast of thousands" in her bed. She carries on conversations with us, and tells us what to do or not do. She is sometimes a backseat driver. She told us the other day that she wants underwear, not Pull-Ups anymore. I wouldn't want to keep her a baby, even if I could. I look forward to her milestones, but I'm not trying to rush her. I'm just trying to enjoy her as she is, wherever she is.

I chuckled at myself, let out a deep sigh, and put the dog-bunny away for later.

People ask us when we're going to have another child. The truth is we don't know (and it's not really anyone's business, either) Another child won't cure these sad and sweet feelings for me. Having another child would only suppress them for a while. They'd be back. I just know it.

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