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Welcome to my blog. I document my adventures in travel, style, and interior design. Hope you have a nice stay!

Growing Up.

Despite my sincerest requests not to, the little man seems insistent on growing up (the nerve of some kids!) When I mean growing up, I mean literally growing up, up, up and out of all of his clothes. I swear that this kid has been taking steroids on the sly. The other day I looked at him and saw his little belly peaking out from under his shirt, and then I looked down and also saw his ankles from under his pants. Then and there I ordered a new larger wardrobe for the little guy (thank God for Gap and Old Navy.) I then apologized profusely to my man for letting him wear high waters around town, and I promised him I would try to be more on top of things like this in the future.



It's not that I don't want to get him new clothes, it's just that every time I do, I order them a size up and somehow the little guy seems to outgrow them in the blink of an eye. This leaves me with a lot of clothes and not a lot of space to store them in. I used to get by with a tupperware bin and a cardboard box. Once the rest of his clothes arrive I realized that a box would no longer do. It was time to get serious. This morning we made our way to Target (oh, how I love that store) and we purchased not one, not two, but three Rubbermade bins.


I spent the last hour sorting all of his clothes by size. While I was sorting it hit me that:
  1. I can't believe he was ever that little.
  2. Why the hell did I only dress my kid in baby blue. If we have a girl she better be a tomboy. That or she is not going to like us very much. 



I was surprised that all those clothes only took up three bins. I broke them up by:
  1. 0-6 months
  2. 6-12 months
  3. 12-18/ 18-24 months
2 years worth of memories packed away under a rubber seal.



You never believe it when people tell you how fast time really does fly once you are raising a child. The clothes really are the surest way to see that. It feels like only months ago he was just a little blob in 6 inch pants. Now he is a walking, talking boy, in 20 inch pants. Where does the time go?

To all my friends out there who are still parents to be, after the next baby these are all coming to you, so you better make room!


My Work Here Is Done.

A Faker.