A monumental milestone just occurred.
My oldest child just inched passed me in height.
He is 13.
He wears a size 13 shoe.
The pediatrician's ambiguous growth chart predicts him to be 6' 4".
Time is going too fast.
I have five years left until he leaves home.
I know that will go like that {insert finger snap}.
So much more to do, so little time.
He keeps a clean room and makes his bed every day. He knows how to properly scrub down a bathroom right down to dusting the little ledges on top of the light switch cover. So now I am focusing on adding some more recipes to his repertoire. The boy needs to know how to cook.
Last week he made a quadruple recipe of homemade mac and cheese to feed 50 at the homeless shelter.
Add to that Sadie's baked beans for 50, a few dozen pounds of pulled pork that I cooked up and Evie's cookies for dessert and the kids learned that it is just as easy to cook for 50 as it is to cook for our crew of 7.
The countdown is staring me in the face. I've got 61 months left to train this man child up right. While I am excited about his future, I long for the past. A friend just sent me this little reminder yesterday. I miss this little face.
I suppose that I have to let him grow up. But his feet can stop now. They have grown enough.