It’s almost too easy to move through the rift-raft of routine without realizing what it is you’ve passed. In the same way my drive to work is filled with gas stations and monuments I don’t notice anymore, I find myself moving through life’s motions without looking up to see what’s changed. But then the inevitable strikes; it doesn’t have to be significant, just well timed, and suddenly I’m dazed and dumbfounded, wondering when my 8lb baby became tall enough to ring the doorbell. And though it feels like it happened overnight, it was sneaky, it was gradual, and it just ain’t right.
I picked Dylan up from daycare yesterday and noticed that instead of wearing his blue, gray, or Elmo shoes, he was wearing the black ones that were way too big for his little fat feet when we bought them a month ago. And because I know that Dylan loves to hide and divide his shoes (damn toddlers), I laughed as I imagined my husband on an unsuccessful shoe hunt earlier that morning that ended with a, “WHATEVER, they’re good enough” moment.
“Dylan looks like such a big boy in his new shoes!” His teacher said as I walked toward my dancing son, who would rather show off his social skills than rush to greet me. “Yeah, he does look like a big boy,” I replied. And when we finally got back to the house, walked the dogs, had a snack, and got settled in, I reached for Dylan’s foot and pinched the toes of his shoe out of curiosity. Oh, actually, they fit perfect. He’s a size 5 now. But without a minute to digest or celebrate my son’s inevitable ever-growing pace, my attention shifted and I began cooking dinner.
Hours later, my husband picked up a pair of ridiculously adorable navy blue shoes that his sister got for Dylan some time ago, and had been sitting on my nightstand ever since. “I can’t wait for these to fit Dylan,” my husband said. And as unpredictable as an earthquake, my whole mind shook with the realization that my fun-sized baby has become a full-sized toddler that is quickly becoming a king-sized boy. And even though those navy blues are merely a size 6, to me, they’re some big shoes to fill. But it will happen, gradually, when I’m just as unprepared as I was at size 5. It’s inevitable, it’s life, I cant outrun time by putting him in smaller shoes (though I would love that). All I can do is remember to look up enough to enjoy the ride.