Too small. Too big.

When Charlotte caught me sorting outgrown clothes, she HAD to wear the lamb sweater.  The same sweater that was mine, then my sister's, then my cousins'.  I don't remember if my brother wore it, or if it had gone to live with my cousins by that point.  My aunt found it and gave it to me for Christmas when Charlotte was 1, and Charlotte loved it.  She likes chewing/sucking on the metal "O" zipper pull.  Gross, but I remember loving it too, the cool metal in my mouth.  Charlotte is just about 3, and we handed it down to Gavin, but I remember wearing it, so I was much older.  A preemie, it took me a little longer to get as big as Charlotte is now, so it is very, very strange to know that I remember wearing a sweater that she has outgrown before her 3rd birthday.  Some of my memories start very early, though, so who knows if Charlotte will have a similar memory of the lamb sweater?  Dancing in the living room, sucking on the zipper pull, squeezed into last Christmas's present of blue corduroy pants and slightly too-small witch's hat.  It's not that the clothes are too small, it's that my baby is too big.