;)
A Moment of Silence
Wednesday, April 9, 2008 at 2:43PM
The sling formerly known as Blue (2004)
There are no new Sonars planned around here, and I’ve slowly given away most of our baby things as they’ve gotten bigger. The slings I have been unable to part with. I have three. Two that I used (one padded and one unpadded ring sling), and one that Partner used (a gigantic padded ring sling). I have pulled them out several times, thinking to give them away to someone who will use them, only to tear up and shove them back in the drawer.
Green and poufy (2000)
This morning though, I pulled them out and tossed them in the washing machine (they are dusty), thinking that I’d lend them. Neighbor could borrow them and I could help her figure out how to use them before she makes her own. I count this as growth.
When I pulled them out of the dryer (seriously, the padded one would take eight months to dry in 80% relative humidity), I found one lovely fluffy green one, one smooth technicolor one (my favorite in the heat down here), and the fragments of what used to be a light blue fluffy one.
The fabric, worn by years of wearing, washing, sitting in the sun on the back dash of the car, being spit-up on, pooped on, chewed on (no, not usually in that order), swam in, slept in, slept on, leaked on, sat on, wrapped around, dragged around… well, the fabric was finished, and came apart along the entire length of the sling.
Better in the washer than holding a babe, I say. But still, my heart flip-flopped a little bit when I thought of all the hours I toted the three babies around—each one regularly until they were at least 12 or 15 months old, and occasionally well up to and even past 2 years—in that faded blue piece of cloth.
None of the Sonars are babies anymore, none would fit in the sling, nor do I think I could heft them for very long even if they could. Still, like a fabric echo of the physical closeness of their babyhoods, I could hold that sling in my hands and remember physically what it was like. Could still smell, even after many washings and a layer of dust, what we smelled like, that breast-milky, warm-baby smell.
*sigh*
My melancholia lasted about 42 seconds, though, before I took out the seam ripper and started disassembling it. Wondering if I can take the fabric and make it into something else.
An echo of an echo.
Technicolor Wrap (2005)
Reader Comments (4)
That's told in such a sweet way. It made me tear up too. :)
I remember the slings and have lots of nice memories of the Sonars (esp. 1 and 2) in them. Maybe you can make a Momma Pillow out of Blue? Have each kid put a small toy or token or piece of hair in the middle of the pillow stuffing and then you still have all the good kid goodness past and present?
Thanks for sharing. Great photos, too. :)
That was wonderful. Thanks, eglentyne, for the story. I have a few similar objects, and it made me think of them with great fondness (though I'm not ready to lend them - not that much growth yet...).
On another note, I have found that once they don't fit in the slings any more, you can sling them over your shoulder - usually without any major back damage to yourself. (I can't vouch for the child.) But it isn't the same.
I have a wonderful, well-loved, chewed technicolored doll...
may the love live on.