Today, I took a few pants from Thing 1s closet to cut off at the knees. A lot of moms that I’ve known throughout the year always fuss about the seasons and changing clothes out. Although I sympathize, it isn’t something we do in WY. Mostly because we have a week of summer. Mostly because even the term “summer” is relative. ( As someone who grew up in Fl, I can promise you that summer up here is very, very mild.)
This could be a pro or a con, I’m not sure which yet.
Anyways, as I was taking pants that were way too short, but were still a little loose in the waist, Thing 1 stood next to me. I then realized the his head was up to my chest.
I’m not a short woman. I’m 5’8″, according to my drivers license (me? I say I’m 5’7.5″ only because I’m tired of being so dang tall). He, at five-almost-six (in September) years old, is already up to my chest.
This both scares me and makes me happy. I know that he probably won’t be bullied much. In third and fourth grade, I was the tallest student (not girl, student) in the entire school. This meant that the odds of my being bullied by any one person went down significantly based on how much taller I was. So, there was one boy that bullied me once until I stomped him into the ground.
The downside is, he’s so tall and skinny, it’s hard to find clothes for him. It is hard to think to myself, He’s only five, when he looks like he is at least seven.
I also have to deal with the Nosy Nessies out there thay challenge me when I say he’s only five. (I think I remember when I gave birth to my son, nosy. Also, if I forget, I have this handy dandy thing called a Birth Certificate that I can check). But that’s not a big deal.
I can’t believe they are growing up so fast. As much as my brain is happy about this, my heart aches.
And so does my uterus.