Written by: Suzanna April 14 2011 In my post last Tuesday, I lamented dealing with “morning” sickness for the past couple of months. Being in Puddleglum mode, I failed to mention that the condition has […]
Written by: Suzanna April 14 2011
In my post last Tuesday, I lamented dealing with “morning” sickness for the past couple of months. Being in Puddleglum mode, I failed to mention that the condition has some unexpected perks, too.
For example, I am now able to make 12 dozen cookies for a church gathering without being tempted to eat them all and claim I never made them. Plus, I can watch television for hours on end without feeling the slightest tinge of guilt.
During one of my recent television sprees of I Love Lucy reruns, one particular episode caught my attention. In it, Lucy contends with living with three in an apartment built for two. She squirrels away Ricky’s socks and underwear in the desk drawer, the sugar in the bathroom, and little Ricky’s squeaky toys in the couch cushions.
Although our baby is still in the making, I already know the feeling. As I type, my Boppy and a stuffed penguin are strategically hidden behind the laundry hamper. They’re not actually in the hamper because that’s already brimming with baby blankets. Oh, and did I mention that the hamper is doubling as a plant stand … in my dining room?
The urge to make room for baby started a few weeks after I found out that we were expecting. Being a notorious packrat, it wasn’t an altogether inviting proposition. Over the years, I’ve amassed quite a collection: a near-empty bottle of Minnie Mouse perfume and a half-used tube of lipstick given to me by my parents on my fifth birthday, a hot cocoa packet and bar of soap from my travels to Europe in high school, and a menu from my favorite restaurant in college. You name it, and I’ve probably had it in my stash of what I like to call “keepsakes.” (Everyone else likes to call it “junk.”)
So, while I knew that a new baby was the perfect opportunity to gather all of those “I might need it someday” things and kick them to the curb, it wasn’t easy. To decide whether something was to stay or go, I asked myself these questions of everything I came across, “Does it enhance my life? Does it fall into the ‘beautiful’ or ‘useful’ category?” (In case you’re wondering, my husband passed the test with flying colors.)
As boxes and bags filled up, it was a bittersweet day. Even letting go of the bottle of wood floor cleaner—we have laminate—felt like saying goodbye to an old friend. Nevertheless, the melodrama was worth it in the end. My husband and I are now enjoying our newly spacious apartment … at least until baby arrives or I come across a sale on wood floor cleaner.