Packing away the favorite baby books

May 19, 2016
3 min read

The bookcase is a stumbling mess of books.

And this is just one. There are more.

They used to look so nice and organized. Perfect in a well-crafted baby nursery.

There was the toddler stage where they could walk (stumble) to the shelf and pick their favorite. You read it to them night after night. You would save the last word of each sentence for them to say.

They used that sweet baby voice that melts your heart every time!

Those are the awesome parenting moments that you can wistfully remember. It's the good part of being a parent. You just want to squeeze them and hold them forever and ever in this safe cocoon.

Embracing the Next Phase

And then suddenly they are three going on 16 and they are running to the book shelf searching for the longest princess book they can find simply because it means they can stay awake longer. Not because it's their favorite book (or maybe it is).

But she does have standards. It must be princess related.

Not the Olivia book that talks about how everyone wants to be a princess and she wants to be different. Nope. Not that one. Not the one you purchased with hope that she will want to consider dressing in anything but old Easter dresses.

But you embrace the princess because she loves it so much. You laugh as you watch her twirl in front of every mirror and you accept many cups of tea (water) that you know you will be cleaning up later.

And you have to make room

The book shelf is full. You've been trying as hard as you can to shove new books in without taking out any of the old.

You know it's symbolic. But you keep making room for new ones.

At some point, there just isn't room.

Soaking up the last pages

Last night I sat down and decided to pull out our favorites so I could multi-task: share my favorites with this blog and clean out the book shelf.

My three-year-old was right there to "help" me.

(Notice the beer in the back ground. Yeah, I needed that for various reasons. And then I spilled it a few minutes later and she ran and told her dad. Everyone loves to tattle on mom.)

She wanted me to read them to her. She still loves them too. She still knows the words to them. She laughed at the same parts. (And she was manipulating my emotions because it was WAY past bed time.)

How could I remove these books? I am not ready to store away our memories into a plastic bin in the basement. (You didn't think I would actually get rid of them did you?)

So I left them there on the floor.

I am the boss. I can keep them on that shelf for as long as I want.

(And then a drank what was left of my beer and went to bed).