note to self

The other night I looked at Esme all stretched out in her bed, arms and legs flailed one way and the other... extremely long legs. Sometimes lately it seems like she is ALL legs, as when I am lengthening pants patterns for the next go round... I thought to myself 'Is she really not even four yet? Isn't she somewhere around six or seven?' Looking at her there and knowing certain aspects of her personality (as when she is playing a complicated maze game on her computer)... it seems at times that could be true. Mark gently reminds me not to compare her height to other children her age (she dwarfs them, at least the local kids I've seen), because every kid is different, we feed her well and both of us are tall. And then I know it has only been (nearly) four years since she came into the world.. When I hear her talk, when she was afraid I would throw her lovey toy in the trash, it cements back into place - yes, she is only three years and eleven months old. And time will only fly faster from here...

Sometimes I just have to stand back and readjust the mindset a little. And stop measuring legs ;) except for the pants.