Spring Cleaning

My boxes from Osaka have arrived and in my attempt to fit everything into my current storage compartments I have come to the sad realization that my clothes + hubby's clothes + Rs clothes = I need to do some serious clothes discarding.

It's a bit sad to throw things away. Even the glittery top I've never worn but had so much potential when I first saw it in the shops, or the tutu skirt that fulfilled my childhood ballerina fantasy, or the leopard fur coat that I snagged for a steal at the local night market that made me feel like a rock star.  All the fashion possibilities or statements I wanted to make that sadly can longer be tolerated in my limited wardrobe.

However, all those, I have been able to withstand without so much as shedding a tear, but when it came to the mountain of clothing R has accumulated in his 1yr and 8 months on earth, my heart couldn't help but skip three beats each time I decide to toss a piece.  Like the quilted pants circa winter 2012 that now had a hole on the knees due to exceeds crawling; or the eggplant and pea beanies that no longer fit on R's toddler sized head.  Every piece if clothing item had so much memory and sentiment attached to it that I'm finding it near impossible to discard.

Does anyone else have this problem?

I believe it's time for me to initiate my 'make a quilt blanket out of your children's clothes' plan.

Heartbroken

After his shower today R didn't want to read any books, which is a first because usually we go through 5-8 books every night.  He was just wondering around the room, mostly hanging by the door and playing with the door knob.  I kind of let him be, because I thought perhaps he was just curious what about grandpa and grandma were up to.

After a while I realized he was laying down by the door his face against the ground peeping through the crack and breathing rather quickly.  I got a bit nervous wondering if he had got his fingers stuck or was not feeling well so I asked him if he was ok, to which he did not reply.

I did manage to see that his limbs and other body parts seemed intact so I asked him if he wanted to read a book he said no, shaking his head profusely.

I asked if he wanted a hug he said no, again shaking his head.  I asked him if he wanted a hug, this time walking toward him with my arms open, and to my horror he backed away from me, towards the corner, almost crying.

And then I realized that he was afraid I was going to put him to bed, to his cot, alone.

You see since moving back to Taiwan almost three weeks ago, I have just started a few days ago to put him into his own cot at night again.  I was very lenient with bed sharing the first few weeks as I thought he might need the extra mummy time to settle into this new environment.  

However,the last few nights of settling into his own bed was filled with tears and tantrums, and the culprit to tonight's tears.  

Swallowing my own tears, I said to R, let's go to mummy's bed and hug and he finally nodded ok.  We hugged and I let him sleep on me for a while then next to me on the bed for a bit and he seemed finally to have calmed down. 

After some time I asked him if he wanted to sleep he nodded, I asked him if he wanted to sleep in his cot? And to my surprise he said yes and nodded his head again. I was shocked and thought perhaps I heard wrong, so I asked him once more, and again he said yes!

Carefully I put R in his cot and at first he seemed a little anxious but he didn't cry. He gave his favorite toy monkey 'Bobo' a hug and put his head down on his pillow.  

I asked him if he wanted to hear a song and he say yes, and requested 'ba ba black sheep' then the alphabet song.

After a round of songs he fell quiet then peacefully asleep.

In the silence of the night I realized why R agreed to go to his cot, it wasn't because he's used to it, or he prefers it, it's because he wanted to do what I wanted him to do, despite what he really felt.  That's what gutted me the most tonight, that perhaps all this time he wasn't ready, but I had done what I thought was right without properly reading the signs he had given me, yesterday, and the day before, again and again.

I feel so heart broken, that my little boy would put my comfort before his, and I had let him do this all the while knowing how he felt about it. I've never been so ashamed by my own actions.