As I was looking through the clothes rack one day, to pick an outfit out for 2 year old B, I realised that there were a few that she had completely outgrown, i.e. I simply couldn’t squish her into them anymore, no matter how I hard I try.
So with the wistfulness (that only a mother can empathise with) filling my heart, I decided to hand them over to a little baby girl who would be able to wear them.
Thinking back, these tiny dresses were all gifts – the Esprit denim dress with the cutest little pockets (even on the bottom left of the skirt!), the babyZara blue and white dress with sweet little flowers and a ruffled feature, as well as the Chateau de Sable white corduroy-ribbed dress with the chic side bow at the neckline.
As I folded up these little outfits, memories of how my little girls had once fit in them came rushing back. How they grow. They are still so little, yet they have changed so much. From babbling babes, they are now pretty conversant little girls. Who can tell you exactly what they want. Or don’t want.
Ah… much of motherhood is letting go. Knowing when to let go, how to let go graciously.
I guess that’s why I’m such a maniac when it comes to taking photos. Somehow it gives the illusion that I can always grasp some memories tangibly in my hand, or on my screen. That I can trap these images, conjure them up when I want to.
That some part of my babies will always remain as such – adorable, squishy and all mine.