Friday, January 4, 2008

New Year, New Clothes

Last night I had to get out of the house for a little while. Fresh air and 2008 calendars and clothes for Max Who Grows Like Bamboo.

Last fall, he decided to try an experiment on himself. I read him a newspaper article about a mother who bought 14 gallons of milk a week for her three young triplets. He thought that amount of milk was huge, and suddendly he began drinking unbelievable amounts of Silk Vanilla Soy Milk. I thought he wanted to top that woman's weekly milk bill. After each meal, he would weigh himself on the scale, so proud each time he gained several ounces. During the course of about three weeks, he gained about four pounds. Finally, he confessed. "I'm trying to outgrow my car seat." He was hoping to reach the doctor-recommended 80-pound threshold so he could enjoy the seat warmers in Daddy's car. That part of his plan didn't work, but he quickly outgrew the pants and underwear and snowpants I thought he would easily wear all winter.

So last night I bought ... gasp ... size ten pants for my eight year-old who used to be peanut, peanut, peanut. The lady at Gymboree -- earn your Gymbucks now, Moms -- said to me, "Do you have a little boy at home?" and I replied, "He's not so little anymore. I can't believe I am buying SIZE TEN!" The same "little" boy who wore size two, size four, size six forever. The same boy who was on the zero percentile chart for height and weight for the first five years of his life. (Yes, I know the flaws of the percentile charts.) The same boy who needed bone age scans and blood tests to make sure he was growing properly. The same boy who took almost three years to triple his birth weight, a feat most babies accomplish by their first birthday.

This morning he tried on the pants -- five pairs -- and the shirts -- three, with long sleeves -- and when he got to the pair of navy blue sweatpants, he said, "Oh, Heavenly. Now these are the ones I like." It was like listening to a chocolate lover enjoy a towering piece of rich chocolate cake. He sighed deeply, closed his eyes, and told me again, "Heavenly. What do they put in these? Cotton?"

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