I have a kiddie cabinet in my kitchen;  it’s the place I stash all froggy sippys, dinosaur plates, and car cups.  It’s also the place until today, I stored all the boy’s bottles.

Every day, when the boys eat lunch, I spend that 15 minutes or so cleaning the kitchen.  Some days I sweep, other days I Windex the counter tops, or wash small appliances; some days I clean the refrigerator and wipe down the shelves, other days I better organize the pantry. 

Today, I was emptying the dishwasher and stuffing all the plastic parafenillia into the kiddie cabinet when I had the best idea ever:  if I get rid of the boy’s bah-bahs, as they call them, there would be so much more room in the kiddie cabinet. I mean, they don’t need them;  they don’t even use them.

So, in between coaxing Richen to eat 3 more bites of chicken and begging Latham to stop dropping food on the floor, I packed their bah-bahs into 2 large Zip Lock bags and placed them in the pantry. 

I did it without thought.  And I did it without ceremony.  I just did it. 

I was living in my happy little world of oblivion when my husband came home and ripped me back to reality.

David:  “Did you put all the boy’s bottles away?”

Me:  “Yup.”

David:  “That’s kind of weird, don’t you think?”

Me:  “Hmmm?  What do you mean?”

David:  “I mean, it’s weird we may never use the bottles again.” 

{PAUSE} 

David:  “Ever.”

Me:  “I didn’t even think of it that way.”

{PAUSE}

Me:  “Yeah, it is weird.”

What’s even more weird:  during the last several months, I’ve put away a lot of baby stuff:  clothes, bibs, socks, and toys.  The boys didn’t need them and I put them away. 

I put them away without thought.  I put them away without ceremony.  I just put them away.

I’m not sure if our future hold anymore bah-bahs or babys.  But I do know:  the next baby items I store, I’ll do it right. 

I’ll put them away thought.  I’ll put them away with ceremony.  And I’ll put them away with the respect that period of time in our lives deserves.