It's not that hard

When my children were small, they would stand next to me and look up.

" Mommy, you are so tall! Am I going to be as tall as you?"

I would smile the smile of someone who knows a secret, "Oh, yes, probably. It's not that hard."

From their three foot perch they would would stare at me and hug my legs.

" Oh Mommy! You're silly!"

No, I'm short. They just didn't know that. Checking in at a solid 5'2" (and why, yes, my eyes ARE blue!) I really never thought of my height much. Most people are taller than I am-- 3" or a foot, it's all the same. Taller. We get used to the angle that we are looking at things. It's, simply, the way we view the world. It's not different, it just is.

I never coveted height. Why would I? Sometimes I wear heels, but not to be taller, I like how they look. I don't dress to elongate my legs. Really? They are only 29", elongation would be a farce extraordinaire.

No, I never really wanted to be taller. I have step stool, and still have enough spring in my legs to hop up on a kitchen counter to get a bowl from the top cabinet. When I was dating height was never an issue, my husband is about 6', but I think of us as equals.

This is how I was made, and - as I tell my kids- God does not make mistakes.I like what He made. Low center of gravity, able to hide in a crowd of kids-- if anyone has a problem with my height, it's not me.

Sometimes taller people have looked down at me...hey, not  always in a totally negative way, I'm talking directionally. But sure, sometimes they would would look down at me and smile. Like I was some cute child playing dress up. I can assure you, I speak tall. No one of any substance would think I was a child for very long. I have to assume that they soon looked at me as I did at them: a person.

Yes, for most of my life I have not thought about my height much. Until a few months ago. When I realized that Luke was no longer looking up at me, he was looking straight across at me. And then, more recently, I looked at him like I look at most people: up.

My 12 year old is now taller than me.  But here is the weird thing, he has yet to say anything about it. Not one "neener" or a laugh. Even today, when I told him to go back-to-back with me he didn't say "Hey, Shortie",  or make a mini-golf joke. He just did it.

Did I really set an example for treating people? I don't know. Probably not. Most likely this is a parental respect issue. But I can tell you this: when I look up at my smiling faced son, I know that his getting taller than me wasn't hard for him. But for me? The mom who will forevermore have the 3 foot version of him in my memory, and knows that each inch he gains moves him closer to being grown and on his own-- it's very hard, indeed.