A Farewell to Bibs

I’m sitting up after having tried to go to bed earlier tonight - just couldn’t stay asleep. So I’m having some tea and writing and trying to do things that will make the list in the morning shorter. i pulled a load of laundry out of the dryer where it had been for a couple of days and I’m looking at it across the table from me in a little disbelief. 

BIBS. BIBS. ORANGE, GREEN, PINK, RED, PUPPY DOGGED, FLOWERED, POLKA DOTTED BIBS. 

We’re all done with bibs. I pulled the lot of them out of a kitchen drawer while I was looking for space the other day and dropped them in the laundry for one last cleaning - not sure if they’re ever clean really - before they go to storage or charity or the trash. It’s like looking at the mess of papers and books and badly kept notebooks at the end of a semester of college and knowing that even though it’s messy and still feels unfinished - YOU’RE DONE!!!

We’re done with bibs for this child anyhow. He’s still a mess, don’t get me wrong, but he’s not a dribbling, burping, spitting up mess anymore. He’s just a throw it on the floor, smear it on my face and laugh mess. 

When I look at that pile and realize I haven’t washed one of those things in weeks, maybe months, I know we’ve made progress. Oh my, when I think of the silent and muttered curses that have erupted while looking for a clean bib: 

“WHERE THE ... ARE YOU KIDDING, NO BIBS, WHAT THE ... I JUST PUT THAT ON YOU ...” 

People ask me at work sometimes, how I can remain calm and keep my focus when there are so many distractions. I don’t really - my threshold for chaos has just been made a little higher by things like BIBS! 

And we’re done. Whahoo! There are a million other things to do, but this one is done. Things are getting a little easier. My boy is growing from a little messy Munchkin into a messy little boy. 

“Read,” was what my son reputedly said to my wife today. 

It’s not his first verbal request, but it’s one of the most delightful imaginable. We've officially traded in Small Paul for Curious George. Things are changing.