The Unloading, Sorting, and Repacking of Baby Clothes
Clare's favorite new pastime is looking at all the tiny clothes. There is half a tub or so of items for the wee one when he comes to our house. Clare knows them all by heart. The suit she came home from the hospital in, the snowsuit that has two, count them please, zippers that you unzip just like so, the tiny hat she wore when she was little and Mom and Dad's bedroom was very cold. The little blankets, the tiny socks, the mittens. She adores them all. She can't wait for this baby.
She wants to let him sleep in the crib, show him how to do things, and help change his diaper. She is going to explain to him that some rocks are small and some are big and crabs and mice live under them to be safe from other animals. She can hardly wait to show him all her tricks (climbing the stairs sideways, hopping like a frog, swinging between the two white chairs, etc.) and she practices them every day so she will be, "very good at my tricks when the baby wants to watch."
That being said, I think she is a bit apprehensive about where she is going to fit in with this big change. She is terribly anxious about me going to the hospital, even though Cheda and Aunt Gee Gee will be here with her. She tells us she loves us about a billion times a day. It has evolved from I love you to I love you very much to Why do you love me? She wants to be held, snuggled, and toted around more than ever.
I'm much more nervous about how we are going to handle her and show her that we love her more than ever than how we are going to put up with sleepless nights and endless diapers!
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