The Change

My mom is coming to visit this weekend, and I am going to take advantage of her presence to accomplish one of my least favorite tasks of each season: The Great Closet Change. Basically, this involves me going to Target and buying four giant rubbermaid bins, and then spending several hours wading through Miss Priss and Master P's closets, pulling out the out of season items, and arranging the new season's clothes. For many people, this is probably an easy thing to accomplish. At our house, it is an all-day affair (or at least, it feels that way). DH would (and will) no doubt comment that this headache could be alleviated by purchasing fewer clothes. Silly boy! Miss Priss and Master P have a reputation to uphold! So, for the love of all things smocked and monogrammed, I continue to face this painful task twice a year.

It gets more complicated as they get older, because I cannot simply put everything away. For one thing, the clothes have gotten too big to keep them all (it's not like those tiny newborn bubbles). In addition, some of them might actually fit next year, so I don't want them hidden down in the basement storage room, where I might forget about them (On second thought, if I "forget" about them it means I get to go buy them more new stuff next year . . . hmmm).

I have to examine each piece, to determine whether it goes in the "donate-without-a-hint-of-sadness" pile (those are mostly the playclothes), the "probably-will-donate-someday-when-they-are-in-college-and-I-can finally-part-with-it" pile, the "could-not-bear-to-part-with-under-any circumstances" pile. My problem is that most of their clothes fall into category three for me, hence the giant mountain of Rubbermaid containers that reaches almost to the ceiling of our basement storage room. Eeek.

And so, off to Target I go, where I'm sure I will pick up $100 or so of other decorative items that we "must have" in addition to my Rubbermaid bins. I do love Target.