A few weeks ago I talked about retiring baby clothes. That was mostly just a few night shirts. This week I had to retire real baby clothes. Sleepers and onsies and items I had lovingly folded as I anticipated Wes’s arrival and imagined what he’d be like. I’m still delighted with the forward progress. Just as everyone promised, things are getting easier day by day. I laugh at Wes and he laughs back at me (well, as long as it’s one of his good hours of the day). I smile at Wes and he smiles back at me. He’s grabbing and batting and babbling and wiggling and doing all the things you’d want an almost three month old to do. (Expect for stare at his hands in wonder…I can’t wait for that but he’s making me wait for that.) I feel so lucky these days. Being Wes’s mother is a true pleasure and an honor. But putting away those clothes of anticipation this week was harder than I expected. If I could get in the right frame of mind about it, they are all clothes of anticipation. I should lovingly, not lametingly, fold them all.