your child is 36 pounds, and that is in the 54th percentile for weight.
your child is 42 inches, and that is in the 84th percentile for height."
In just over two weeks, Ziggy will turn four. I am NOT ready. I know it really doesn't matter if I am, it's going to happen. Today, on a shopping trip for new Sunday morning clothes, I realized that my toddler is on the cusp of becoming my little boy.
And I wanted to cry. (Still do, truth be told).
That 84th percentile in height means that Ziggy has to wear a size larger in pants to make sure they are long enough. While an almost-4-year-old is "supposed" to wear a 4T, Ziggy has to have a 5T. When I wandered into the toddler section of a store today, I was hit with a stark realization. The clothes for children carried by this store stop at a 4T. This means that I had to look for clothes in the little boys' section. In an instant, my toddler ceased to be my toddler.
As I perused the little boys' section, the last five years of my life replayed. I still remember the day I discovered I was pregnant. This discovery followed nearly five years of tests, medication, mood swings, migraines, saying goodbye to my first son, and more negative pregnancy tests than I care to remember.
My mind flashed through first nights with no sleep, months of teething, numerous ear infections, tubes, testing, and allergy shots. I remembered crawling, toddling, walking, running, jumping, playing. And giggles...smiles...hugs...kisses...cuddles...and hearing my little boy tell me he loved me for the first time.
While I would love for time to slow down, I wouldn't trade one minute of the last (almost) four years. I would not give back one moment of time I have been gifted with him or trade any of it for all the riches of the world. And I won't worry about stores that do not allow me to stay in the toddler section just a little while longer, clinging to the last precious moments of toddlerhood.
I will just shop at the ones that do.
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