Don't it Always Seem to Go that You Don't Know What You've Got till it's Gone

WARNING: BLOGGER MAY SOUND SNOBBY, MATERIALISTIC, AND SHALLOW.
(Please keep an open mind)

My clothes. My beautiful clothes.

Where have they gone?

I know this sounds really shallow, but I'm in the process of pregnancy withdrawal right now. Put yourself in my shoes for a minute:

I spent nearly a month packing away my beautiful belongings from Silver Spring in preparation for my move to Des Moines. I ever so carefully folded my tops, skirts, sweaters, suits, dresses, into (FAR TOO MANY) moving boxes labeled "Malkie's precious clothing". (Just joking, the box didn't say "precious" although it should have). Josh was actually the one who labeled the boxes (Correction: Josh labeled the boxes, numbered the boxes, took digital photos of the inside and outside of the boxes, logged the box numbers and their contents in a spreadsheet, estimated the value of the contents in each box...do you get the picture?) As I was thrown into the awful stresses of moving and kowtowing to Josh's organized yet torturing "labeling procedure", my one true pleasure was carefully packing away my possessions. I would pack my clothes thinking "Oh, I'll wear this this dress on this weekend" or "I'll wear this outfit when I meet this person..." (I understand there may be some of you who cannot relate to this idea. The idea of planning one's wardrobe. Well, the same people who take three hours to pack a suitcase because they have to plan out and try on each outfit for each occasion, like myself, truly understand.) This is what went through my mind as I was packing up for Des Moines.

So what if I don't know anyone! So what if I'm leaving my friends behind! So what if I'm leaving a city I can't wait to return to! I still have my clothing all packed up and waiting to be hung in a brand new house!

Oh.

Wait a minute.

I almost forgot.

I'm 15 weeks pregnant.

Shoot!

Shoot! shoot! shoot! shoot! shoot! Scratch that idea. Then I thought, maybe it won't be so bad. I'll enjoy hanging up my new clothing in my closet and perhaps I'll leave my "I still can wear these although I'm pregnant" outfits at my front reach.

So that's precisely what I did. Although I will readily admit that Josh took charge of PACKING our belongings from Silver Spring, I was mostly involved in unpacking our 85 or so boxes once we arrived. (I cannot BELIEVE I don't recall the actual number of boxes we had... I sure hope Josh isn't reading this. He probably still dreams each night about the number of boxes we had an how our scammy movers ripped us off. Josh will dream about those number for an eternity. Such dreams belong in the category of "men who try to find the best parking space right next to the door although they constantly complain that they need more exercise to get into better shape." Men - stop being such men!)

Well anyway, since I was in charge of unpacking, you can bet I unpacked my clothes in quite a hurry - not to mention hogging all of the hangers we so wisely remembered to pack. (Note: Aviva's clothing are also extremely important on my list... so her belongings were unpacked very quickly as well!)

I enjoyed the scene. Taking out each garment with love and care. Wondering how I should arrange my closet. By season? By color? By favorite? The possibilities were endless. Husbands, when your wives complain that they don't have enough clothes, I suggest this tactic. Have them pack away all of their clothes and then unpack each garment one by one - marveling at each item. (I know it sounds a little over the top... but it just may work.) Or I have another suggestion. Get pregnant, leave your clothes for 9 months... and joyously return to the beautiful wardrobe!! Ok, ok, people should get pregnant for other more important reasons. Forget I mentioned it.

I'd like to take a break to mention - this isn't all about being snobby and obsessed with clothing (although it is about that a LITTLE). This is also about a need for organization. If you're the type of person who loves the smell of "a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils" (You've Got Mail) or you enjoy organizing your shoes in the order of how frequently you wear them, you will understand. Sadly, I admit, I can be that person.

Ok. So a recap of the scene: Clothes are unpacked, everything is organized, everything is beautiful. Except for the fact that I am entering my second trimester and I will not fit into these clothes in approximately 12 hours.

That's when I moved my wardrobe into the SECOND CLOSET! How wonderful to have a three bedroom house! I have been using the closet in our third bedroom as my "maternity wardrobe". It makes me feel important to rise in the morning and walk down the hallway to another bedroom to fetch my clothes. (Albeit, the walk to the third bedroom is approximately three steps and my ever-so glamorous closet is shared with comforters, suitcases, and Josh's 200 ties.)

Nonetheless, it made sense to me. One true closet and one maternity, "nine-months-seems-like-an-eternity" closet.

However, as the title of this blog reads "You don't know what you've got till it's gone". Each morning when I open my eyes (after I say Mode Ani of course), I look from my bed into my open closet and gaze at the beautiful colors and fabrics. It's such a beautiful image, I almost want to take a picture. How beautiful would your closet look if the clothes were unfettered for a full 9 months?! And after I stumble into my maternity closet and put on something I probably wore 4 times already that week, I peer back into my true closet and think of the days that I will no longer be 30 lbs heavier, exhausted, and completely reshaped.

Between you and me, there technically can be a third closet. The "I'm not pregnant, but I'm not a size ____ (fill in the blank) I used to be quiet yet." However, with Aviva sleeping in one room, the new baby sleeping in another, and me and husband in the third - I'm not quite sure where we can find closet space for that. Although my husband is a boy, he is entitled to his personal space and I will not stoop to the level of taking over his closet......................................................yet.

Again, for those of you who are having trouble understanding this (or those of you who understand it perfectly well and are disgusted) just remember, it's a hormonal thing. I'm 33 weeks pregnant, 33 lbs above my usual weight and just really looking forward to being the old me. In the case of pregnancy, I can say that the end surely justifies the means - and a baby is most definitely, absolutely, positively worth it!

That's not to say however, that I am already planning my outfit for this occasion, and that occasion.... hoping and praying to God that I will someday fit into those outfits once again!!