I’ve survived a lot of big moments in my life. I didn’t freak out when I turned 30 (or 40).
I didn’t cry when my boys started kindergarten. (Yes, they’re homeschooled, but let me have this victory.)
I didn’t overreact when my oldest moved into student ministry after all of those years of working with students alongside my husband, the student pastor.
I didn’t even panic when we took our kids out of the country for the first time. (I did do a lot of extra praying, though.)
Unfortunately, I did come pretty close to losing it the other day. I bought new jeans for my boys just a few months ago and they’re already getting too short. So I thought I’d investigate to confirm my suspicions. I measured them.
I started measuring my boys on a Veggie Tales growth chart when they were 2 years old.
I was speechless when my oldest was off the chart this time. Granted, the chart only measures to 5 feet, but the visual of him towering over the chart was too much for me. (Ok, he’s only 1 inch over but I still got the impression of towering.)
As I write these words, I realize how ridiculous it sounds that I am having such a hard time with a natural process of life. I can’t explain the logic of it, but I feel like it’s the last straw of my little boy growing up.
Heaven help me!