Cleaning the Closet

from the mom

M is a notorious pack-rat who finds it appalling that I would throw out his clothes when they are fraught with holes. He also piles things in no particular order and then will say "I just wish I had a sweater with some color in it." "What about that orange one?" "What orange one?" Well, let's see. And we'll unearth it deep under a pile of shirts, pants, gloves, and scarves.

Fortunately we have a walk-in closet the size of some of my previous bedrooms. So we've both piled up quite a collection.

Christmas Eve he cleaned his side. Everything was neat and organized and he came up with several bags of clothes he was never going to wear again. My side was a mess.

He took a day; I took a week. I said my good-byes to some of my favorite clothes, sizes much too small for me that I've been saving for the day I lose those notorious 20 30 pounds. I had two really good years where I was the size I wanted to be; so these clothes weren't worn for too long. But they've been hanging in my closet mocking me ever since.

Finally I realized that if when I lose this weight my body may still not be what it was pre-babies. It has changed in mysterious ways and styles I could once count on don't work anymore. Besides, losing 30 lbs. is a pretty good reason for a shopping spree. So 6 bags of clothes later, my closet is pretty empty. And my new year's resolutions are reasonable: to go down to a size that is no longer in my closet and therefore, of necessity, go shopping.