Worn...

It is very nearly back-to-school time, or rather for us, the beginning-of-school time and my mind is partially occupied by outfitting the smalls for a new season and new adventures.  And that has made me reflect on my own wardrobe-wearing habits, especially this morning as I pulled out a much-loved and a bit worn-out old long-sleeved tee and surveyed its constellation of tiny holes right about where my belly button goes.  Why my shirt even has a constellation of belly-button holes is unknown to me, but it might have to do with Moo's predilection for Mama-identification via finger in the belly.  I'm just guessing here.  It might also be where my belt buckle rubs when I'm carrying Moo on my hip, which I still do on a fairly frequent basis.  He is the baby of the family, and like I said, it is an old shirt.  When I look at my wardrobe, I realize that most of my clothes have survived (and carried me through) at least one, if not two, pregnancies and delightful, messy, cuddly, tumbly baby- and toddlerhoods.  Others have been on pregnant- or nursing-mama hiatus, and are finally beginning to get some use again, but gee, they're 8-10 years old now.  Faithful old friends.  My big question here is when do you finally say goodbye to beloved old clothing?  The smalls outgrow things, and we move on regardless of its worn state, but how about us grown-ups?  My velveteen rabbit of a wardrobe is getting pretty threadbare, but has been loved enough to be Real.