"I wonder if I'm taller than Grandma Luthy," he said.
"You're not," I assured him.
At the time, she was out of the country, remember, so he couldn't check.
"How can you know for sure?" he asked.
It didn't take much to burst his balloon. "Because I'm shorter than my mom, and you're still shorter than I am."
And that was that. In late July. Just over THREE months ago.
If you recall, my parents are home now. (YIPPPPEEEEEE!) We had a fantastic reunion on Friday, and my kids are drinking them in any chance they get, even though Grandma and Grandpa haven't had a chance to hardly unpack and are surely still jet lagged.
We saw them briefly yesterday, and the kids were throwing stuff out like, "In two months, I'm in the school play, so you have to come to that," and, "I have a band thing on Tuesday I want you to come to. I play the flute now. Did you know that?" and," Our piano recital is coming up soon."
Amidst the barrage, I assured my parents I'd let them know about each event well in advance. Let's just say the kidlets are excited to have a chance for their grandparents to be involved in their lives again.
Then my son stood next to Grandma. They were so close in height, we had to flatten their hair to see who is taller. It was Grandma, but only by about a quarter of an inch.
Which means he's got to be taller than I am now. He did this IN THREE MONTHS. My baby boy! AAAACK!
I'm having more of these mommy moments of freaking out that time is moving at the speed of light. On Halloween, my son dressed up in the same costume he'd worn to school, but he wasn't trick-or-treating, because he's too old for that now. So he was on candy duty. Next year, he'll probably have a Halloween party with his high school friends in the basement.
(Can someone explain how this happened? Is there a rip in the space-time continuum or something? Because that's the only thing that makes sense. I swear he was just in kindergarten.)
He recently informed me that in just over a year, he'll be able to get his learner's permit. I think that information stripped about 5 years off the end of my life.
Next child down was old enough to go trick-or-treating with a group of her girl buddies. So I took out just my youngest two. They're plenty big now, so I didn't need to pull a wagon to save their tiny little legs the effort of walking blocks and blocks like I used to when they were toddlers. Far from it; my youngest literally ran from house to house, urging us to go faster.
I thought back to when I had all four of them with me each Halloween, wearing their little costumes (which I'd often made). How small they'd been. How cute. How fast the years have gone. How many years of this I have left . . . with two of them, and then one. It made me sad.
Then I got another time warp kicker this morning. I recently bought a pair of sneakers that were on clearance at Payless for something like $7, but I was buying a pair of Sunday shoes for another kid, and the store had their Buy One, Get One 1/2 Off sale, so I got the sneakers for $3.50. They're actually 1/2 a size too small for me, but if I keep the laces loose, they work (and I got them for the price of a hamburger!).
Today, my twelve-year-old daughter came to me before school and asked if she could borrow them.
They fit her. What the what?!
My son is taller than I am and will be driving soon.
My daughter can fit into my shoes. Or at least into my smallish ones. Soon, she'll be raiding my closet.
Next thing I know, they'll both be dating.
And graduating from high school. And going on missions and starting college and getting married and . . .
STOP!!! I can't take it!
Yesterday I snuggled my littlest in my lap for awhile. She's a bit big for that, but I needed it. She snuggled right back and didn't want to leave. It's nice to know she needed it too.
I may be Mom, but for a little while, I'm still Mommy, too. That's not a title I'm willing to relinquish quite yet.