I don't really consider myself sentimental. I don't save birthday cards and I don't gush (at least not very much) over tiny baby socks. But I am having some serious trouble today.
Today, I got down the box of boy 6-9 month clothes. (I have a box for each gender in each size, if you're wondering.) The stuff that's in the 6-9 month box for Joel was Seth's 3 1/2 years ago. Every shirt that is coming out of the dryer is almost making me tear up. I have a memory or, at the very least, a picture of Seth wearing each and every one of these little shirts.
Seth was the first grandchild on my side so Nana went a little Kohl's happy and there are some barely-used, perfectly adorable, long-sleeved shirts... just in time for fall in the Pacific Northwest.
I keep smelling them hoping that there will be remnants of Dreft. I've only ever purchased one bottle of Dreft. You know... the one you buy when you're having your first baby just in case the baby has sensitive skin.
They grow up so fast.
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