Spring growth spurt

Twice a year they seem to do this to me.  Without reflecting whether it’s a good time for Mommy to be clothes shopping, or whether I wanted to rummage through the bins of shoes–atticked or closeted–to find if we have a pair in the next size up, the five of them silently decide to suddenly grow overnight.  It’s not always incredibly noticeable at first.  Then I’ll look down and see that little preemie Trooper is taller than he was last week.  Now his head is higher than my elbow.  Rascal has to be told to put that pair of pajamas in Dinosaur’s drawer because it is not fitting him no matter how Rascal tugs at it.  Never mind that Dinosaur won’t wear those jammies since they aren’t John Deere Green; it just makes me feel like they might actually be worn again.  Princess is officially out of 2T just in time for Sunshine to jump into it.  Haus Meister bragged the other day that I knew all the kids’ shoe sizes by heart but in fact, I don’t seem to at the moment.  Until this afternoon, I thought Dinosaur was wearing 9/10.  His famous red slippers are a 9/10.  Then I felt his toes smooshed inside those slippers and thought silently that said slippers will have to be packed away in the attic box during the move.   Thankfully, there’s a pair of size 11 brown boots waiting for him that he has dubbed his John Deere boots even though they aren’t the JD brand.  That doesn’t worry me–at least he has something he likes to wear to Church so we don’t have to convince him not to wear his dinosaur rain boots.

I tried once to tell my children to stop growing but it didn’t work.  At the moment, I don’t really mind.  I was at a friend’s house a week ago and watched as she laid her six-month-old down on a big softie playmat so she could check on her child upstairs.  I cooed to the six-month-old, who lay there giving me that sweet wide-eyed happy baby look, that I really like the newborn ages when you can lay them down and trust they aren’t going to go anywhere.  And then I told her that I also love the eighteen month old age when they still want to be babied but can also walk and drink out of sippy cups.  But that can’t be my favorite age because I also like them at two when they are twirling in my kitchen and at four when they are stomping around like dinosaurs.  And at five when they look up excitedly after solving a page of math problems.  And at seven when they lose that first adorable baby tooth.

But still, do they have to gang up on me with their growth spurts?  Or could they at least time it with the real seasonal changes so I’m not running around the store’s fully stocked (now that Valentine’s Day is almost here) section of Spring clothing looking for a winter sweater? 😉

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