It's time to put these soft little size six jeans in the memory box. They've been hemmed up by Grandma, let out by Mama, hemmed up by Grandma, let out by Mama...holes in both knees...the first time she put them on, Andrew and I giggled and said, "her tiny little booty is so cute in those jeans!" and she gets a pinch every time she puts them on. They're like the Traveling Pants - she never grows out of them and they've fit perfectly for two years now.
My sweet baby is growing so fast. These little torn jeans are the ones I'll pull put every couple of years and cry over a little before I fold them again and tuck them back into the box.
You know those moments where you love them so much that it's almost sad, because you know you'll never have this very moment again? Bittersweet.
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