Sometime last month, I posted a baby picture of the Kid. Later that day I was talking to my mom:
Mom: You about made your little sister cry with that picture of the Kid today.
Mom: Just at how much he'd grown up....
I mentally flashed between the alien-eyed baby my sister used to be and the sixteen-year-old goddess she's grown into.
Me: Well tell her to think of how we feel, for goodness sakes!
But then I went to make some winter pj's for the Kid and Little Miss. I was sewing late at night so I just pulled a pattern from a pair of pants I'd bought the Kid for fall. (I do it as described in The Creative Family.) When I finished, I eyed the size critically. Particularly next to Little Miss's teensy pants, the Kid's pjs looked impossibly long.
"Eh, I'll try them on him tomorrow and re-do the hems," I shrugged as I headed to bed.
Of course, you know how this story ends. Because--while the pants were suitably baggy and comfy--the cuff hit exactly where it should. And then it was my turn to blink away a few drops of moisture.
[The flannel, which is absolutely as soft and wonderful as it looks, is "Fanfare" designed by Rae Hoekstra.]