Growing like a weed

Both of my children are growing like weeds.

This is an image of the edge of our dining-room door which is used as an impromptu height chart. What you see is Daniel's changing heights, and the dates at which they've been measured. At the last measurement, despite my best posture and squashing down his hair as much as possible, he was a tiny bit taller. He was punching the air with delight.

I liked it when his head was at hip height - his hair just at the right place to ruffle while standing together waiting for a bus - then when he was the right height to tuck under my chin (Megan's current height) I liked that too. A comfy height to cuddle standing up. Now, we look eye-to-eye. At this rate, in a year's time, he'll be able to tuck me under his chin.

I hope when he reaches that height - the height of his father - he'll still want to hug me, and will let me tuck under his chin. Because funnily enough, no matter what size he is, what stage he's at, it's always the best one yet.



My entry for the week's 2011 challenge "Growth".