When your daily activities are in concert with your highest priorities, you have a credible claim to inner peace. – Hyrum Smith


6/16/14

Baby Spoons

I just refinished our kitchen table.  The one we've had for the 14 years we've been married.  The one with the water stains, the big patch of rough wood where the paint thinner spilled, the red and blue permanent marker lines, the one with all the nicks.  Now it is shiny and red and looking new.  I'll give it about 48 hours…

Anyway, it is making me realize just how shabby the rest of the kitchen looks.  So of course I decided I needed to clean off not only the outsides of the cabinets but the insides as well.  It's 10 o'clock.  Everyone is sleeping, so it's really the only logical time to tackle such a project.

Problem is, I came across some baby spoons.  I had been easily sorting things in the cabinet: keep/donate/trash.  But then these darn little spoons popped up.  And I'm crying like a baby.  Because my baby doesn't need them anymore.

I promise you I will try to refrain from writing a post every time Caleb outgrows something.  It's just so hard.  These particular spoons represent years of trial and error.  A new mom who naturally used the coated Gerber spoons she'd been given as a shower gift, only to learn they held about one millionth of a gram of baby food which never actually made it into baby's mouth.  Next came the too large toddler spoon that held more food but could never quite get wedged in that little face.  Finally, the perfect spoon…Cue the parting of the clouds and the ray of sunlight descending on the firm but flexible, perfectly cupped, built-in-spoon-rest-included Nuk.



I believe this spoon was unintentionally left at my house by a friend somewhere along the way.  I have to be honest, I never made much effort to determine the friend's identity because, well, I didn't want to part with the awesome spoon. Once Caleb came along, I logged on to Amazon and ordered many more.

And now it's time to let go of these spoons.  To pass them along to some other lucky momma.  I briefly considered keeping them for my grandchildren.  Does that make me crazy?  Is that how my future daughters-in-law would view me?  They won't want some decades old plastic in their precious babe's mouth.

So I'm sad.  I'm not the mom of an infant anymore.  I realize it's not really about the stupid spoons.  Caleb took a step today.  My baby is walking...


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