Muscles Remember The Mood

Based on a series of link posts on Facebook, it’s evident I’ve had baby clothes on the brain. This is because of a series of events:

Toby just went through another growth spurt, which means culling through clothes that don’t fit and discovering that he needs new ones.

We went to our favorite used-kid’s-clothing store to buy shoes and socks, (by Just’In’s request–and any husband who willingly wants to buy apparel should not be denied) discovered that they’re moving to a bigger location, and were having a clearance sale because of it. Used clothing on clearance. Wow.

In anticipation of the sale, I drew up a list of what I might buy for Toby. Then, when we went to said sale, we found it was so crowded that Just’In just told me, “You shop; I’ll stand here with Toby.”

Because there were so many people, I systematically looked for every item on the list. For example, I went to look at the swimming suits. I wouldn’t normally buy a swimming suit for a baby, but if they’re cheap enough . . . Standing in front of the swimming suit section for little boys, I find there are zero swimming suits on clearance. I did this with everything on the list.

Then I looked at said list and realized that almost everything there was an accessory. And I look around me and see that the majority of people are looking through the clothes racks, not anything else. I head to the section of the store that holds the sizes of clothes that Toby will fit into, and sure enough, as I search for church clothes, I find that there is nothing there marked as clearance.

After Just’In wades through all the people–kids, moms, dads, babies in strollers, irritated people in a long line–and asks me whether I should look for clothes in a larger size than he is wearing currently, I just look at him dumbfounded. Baffled.

Much Like This: The Same Irritation

He compassionately, gently, suggests that we leave. Even when it was his idea to come to the sale in the first place, and he was willing to pay for whatever I found.

Just’In tells me, as we double back through the parking lot, that he saw many moms who had obviously plowed through the store, snatching up everything that was marked clearance. Apparantly, they had set up camp on the aisle caps with laundry baskets and were going through their piles, deciding what they wanted and making another pile of clearance items they didn’t want. On the floor. Completely ruining it for anyone else who had a kid of the same age.

And as he told me of this, I realized that the irritation had just permeated everyone in there. And slowly, my neck muscles and shoulders began to relax. Even as I write this, the memory of such tension comes back to my muscles. But I’m left with this list of things to buy.

Toby is snoring at this very moment. With that note of endearment he unwittingly brings, please enjoy with me the things I’ve found: a summer romper, covered in snails; a t-shirt at Gymboree.com with an adorable lion’s face and the word “KING” on it; and something that reminds me of little/tall brother, Paul.

These are proof: I’m slowly learning that I can enjoy things without wanting them. Much.

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About The Original Kate

Along with artistic tendencies, Kate enjoys unusual people and is constantly striving for some sort of nonconformity. Kate offers a perspective that is thoughtful but well-written and full of images within the words. Other tidbits that might intrigue: she has very long auburn hair, and, you guessed it, her favorite color is orange.

Posted on July 26, 2010, in From Moss-Lined Oregon, Toby Tales and tagged . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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