The nursery furniture

I moved H's dresser out of her room today.

Finally.

Now that her closet is organized to accommodate all of her clothes, it simply isn't needed. Which was my intention.

Because I have something against dressers. It's irrational. I know that. I just don't like them.

Not in bedrooms anyway. The small ones in our library, I love.

Anyway, I digress.

The dresser is out. The room is cute and more spacious.

But the dresser is now sitting in the guest room. With the matching long dresser.

The bed that matches it all is wrapped up and in storage.

It used to be H's crib.

Which we didn't get much use out of it.

It converts to a toddler bed. Then a full size bed if you buy the rails.

It all seemed like a great and necessary investment when Miss H was still in the womb.

So did the coordinating nursery décor. And tiny little baby socks. And a baby bathtub.

You know, the things that turned out to be totally pointless?

Yeah.

But I'm attached to this furniture like a crazy person.

Figures.

The only things I feel sentimental over from my children's babyhood is barely used nursery furniture and a box of cloth diapers.

Yes, yes. Laugh. Diapers that my kids peed and pooped in I cannot bring myself to part with. I've de-stashed significantly, but some I just cannot let go of.

And here I am at that same cross roads with this furniture.

It's not being used, so why keep it?

Because I cannot let it go.

Me, the Queen of Purge, the girl with little attachment to anything material, cannot let go of some furniture we hardly ever used.

The rocker I nursed my babies to sleep in every night, I let go.

I baby wrap I held them close to me for the first few early months, I let go.

The toys and blocks that we played with for hours on the floor when they were infants, gone.

The adorable tiny baby outfits they were too cute for words, gone.

But the furniture. The furniture. Oh, the furniture.

I don't know how to let that go.

I can keep it for H in case she wants it some day. It's technically hers anyway. Wrap it up and store it away. And I probably will.

But even putting it out in storage seems challenging. Like I just don't want to quite let it go.

Which is ridiculous.

My babies are growing up.

And I'm totally okay with that. In fact, I love it. They are way more fun now.

They feed themselves and go potty on their own. They don't need to me do nothing but hold them and nurse them all day. I have the ability to break free and get some time for myself. And I adore the people they are. The people they are becoming.

I'm not even a little bit sad that they're not babies.

Yet there is that nursery furniture. And I just can't seem to let it go.