Well, I’ve calmed down a little bit this week. Maybe it’s all the relaxing I’ve been doing; maybe it’s just knowing that I’ve got the closet nice and organized and ready for our kid (even though he won’t be here for another several months). I’m not so worried about having a boy anymore…well, at least for now.
Caleb and I have been aggressively negotiating boys’ names. He scoffed at "Silas", and I vetoed "Riddick." We were almost settled on "Jackson" until I killed it dead with my "Just Jack" impression from Will and Grace.
I thought it was cute.
Back to the drawing board.
On Sunday we sorted through clothes–mostly Caleb’s–and took 10 bags worth of wonderful wearable stuff over to Goodwill. You’d think our closet drawers and shelves would be bare after that, but you would be wrong. It blows my mind to think we had somehow crammed all that crap in there. I’d say a good 75% of it hadn’t been worn in over 2 years.
Caleb is a horrible packrat. I tend to throw things away without thinking. If it’s lying around and I don’t like the look of it–clothes, shoes, papers, decorations–it’s out, and whether it all goes to The Salvation Army, Goodwill, or the trash can, I care not. My habit has gotten me into trouble before. Important phone numbers, files, directions, reciepts, warranties…you know, the stuff you’d never even know was gone until one day by stroke of bad luck you need it in the worst way. I’m surprised I’m not divorced yet.