So...not EXACTLY Love Thursday.
In Which We All Nearly DIE.

This is why there is too much stuff in my house.

"Hey," Clay said, holding up the worn, limp, blue Boppy, "Sophia doesn't need this anymore, does she? She doesn't really tip over backwards now."

"Nope, she's done with it," I said.

"So I can throw it away?"


"Because you said that's what you wanted to do. That it's old and sort of stinky now that Sophia is done spitting up all over it?"

"I know I did."


I looked at it there, in his hand. It is old. And now it smells faintly of spit up. I also discovered, thanks to Sophia's efforts, that when it gets wet, the dark blue dye in the fabric transfers to whatever rubs against it. This is, as you can imagine, lovely on pastel baby clothes. And floors.

Oh, but the Boppy. Fourteen years I've had that thing. It cradled each of my children when they were barely sitting up infants. Each one of them fell back onto its cushioning. Their legs curled inside its curves.

"It's just...all four of them were babies on that Boppy," I said, at last. "I can still see them there, propped up inside it."

He looked down at the pillow in his hand, ratty and old and sour smelling, and he sighed. Without further comment, he found a corner to leave it in. And there it sits, holding my memories of my pre-crawling babies.

It's hard to let it go, because I don't have any pre-crawling babies anymore.

Nov09 024 

Man, it happens fast, this being left behind.

Nov09 025

Me and the Boppy, we'll hold the memories, though.




*dies of the cute*

*comes back to life*

Uh, sorry. Were you saying something...?

Pamela L

I know what you mean - there are so many things that I didn't get rid of until my boys were 20 - or did I??

Sophia is adorable - I love the lacy panties!!


I washed my boppy. Lots. And now it's a catbed or a pillow for the little one during TV time. Viva La Boppy!

The comments to this entry are closed.