the end of the era of pants

this year I decided to make a Christmas list. it's not that I didn't enjoy receiving small size teddies or platform shoes while eight months pregnant in previous years, but I just thought santa and his helpers could use a little help. everyone likes feedback, right?

as I happily plotted all the items I would enjoy--things like indoor slippers, fancy soap, hoop earrings--I realized that something had changed when I included "black tights."

for the last four and a half years since Juniper, the oldest, was born, I have worn pants almost every day. sitting cross-legged on the floor is just a natural part of interacting with babies and young toddlers. they themselves are closer to the ground and they get you closer, too.

as Hazel, the youngest, approaches her second birthday in a few weeks things have started to change. entire days can be spent standing or sitting on chairs. my dark clothes are not always covered in grime and throw up. some of the more fun clothing items have already been revived.

I loved a poem in college, which I can no longer find, about saying goodbye to a parent. one of the lines I remember is that "some of the last things have already happened." that poem made concrete that we fear endings because they remind us of our own mortality.

the finality of these words are hard. I will never again be pregnant. I will never again give birth. I will never again spend entire years wearing clothes that could easily double as pajamas.

at the same time, on the horizon are so very many firsts.