One of the realities of parenting a school-aged kid is the growth spurts. I swear there have been times he’s left the house with pants on in the morning only for them to seem too small when he returns after school.
I had no illusions that the clothing my son wore on his first day of school last year would come close to fitting him this year, but I wasn’t prepared for the astounding change I’ve seen in him since his report card came home in June.
While chatting with a good Mom-friend over coffee recently, she lamented that her son (also six) is so hard on his clothes. Almost to drive home her point, he fell on the playground and tore the knee out of his jeans. And that’s when I realized it’s been a while since I’ve had a torn pant leg to contend with: instead, I’m dealing with popped buttons and Mama, I can’t get them on.
After years of worn-out knees in pants and busted zippers, Peekaboo Beans was like hitting the clothing jackpot. I loved knowing I could find quality clothing for my son that wouldn’t fall apart the first time it was washed, and he loved knowing that he wouldn’t have any buckles or buttons or tags to drive him bonkers. So we bought. And we bought. And we bought and we bought and we bought.
And then, one day, the Beans didn’t fit.
Could it really be? I thought as I tried, fruitlessly, to get the waistband of a size-8 over my son’s adorable butt. Has he outgrown something without even wearing it down?
(He had. And it was equal parts terrifying and amazing!)
All of a sudden my six-year-old wears a size 10 but for the first time, I was packing up clothing he’d worn often but it wasn’t worn out. And that’s important, because when I spend money on something I want to know it’s not a waste – I want to know it will hold up against gym class and playground falls and Mama’s penchant for throwing everything in the washer and dryer without thinking.
The simple truth is this:
F is growing up faster than I want to admit and much faster than I’m ready for. The days of picking out his clothes are over, as he flexes his sartorial muscles at every opportunity he can. I can barely lift him, but I can continue to lift him up and as long as we can rely on quality clothes we can both love, we’ll be doing just fine – and doing it in style.