My oldest monster, Patrick, has been growing like a mad weed since we moved to Alabama. I’ve been trying to keep a ‘redneck eye’ on it. That is my official way of measuring my son’s height. It goes a little something like this…I have him stand right in front of me and ‘measure’ where his eyeballs are in relation to my eyeballs. Pretty good, eh?

So I’d been ‘keeping an eye’ on him, so I thought. Then the other morning, while getting ready for school, I noticed that Patrick was not just a itsy, bitsy smidge taller than I. No, with shoes on, and myself barefoot - he was FOR SURE taller than I. More redneck measuring skills - itsy, bitsy smidge - or - FOR SURE. Pretty good again, eh? Yeah, so I made him come over to me so I could see close up how FOR SURE it all was. It was definitely FOR SURE. But the little bugger had shoes on - and I didn’t. See - all was right with the world. It was okay. I could deal. Fine - go on to school, boy - Momma’s just fine.

And then it happened. A weekend morning - both of us wandering the Redneck Roberson Castle barefooted…

And that’s when I saw it.

And nearly lost it.

Some would say I did, in fact, lose it. But that would just be the casual observer. My children have seen ALL levels of ‘Momma’s losing it’ and this was….well, hell! I was wandering the house sobbing, okay?! No big deal! Just leave me alone and let me tell the damn story, wouldja?

So yeah…I noticed there seemed to be a flaw in my advanced measuring technique. Perhaps the boy had grown some more, with me unaware. Blissfully unaware.

I called his little barefoot self over to my little barefoot self and stood (what I THOUGHT was gonna be) eye to eye with him. And dammit all! If that boy hadn’t SERIOUSLY outgrown me! OMG! I do not recall handing out any permission for this sh*t!

Tears that stung my soul like acid immediately poured onto my cheeks. Silly boy. He just doesn’t get this ‘woman sobbing’ stuff, so I went looking for my female compatriot. I found her, my sweet Sammie, in her bedroom. I wandered in, babbling almost incoherently, “Sammmmmie, itwabnt dashooos!!! Itwabnt dashoos!”

“What, Mom?! What?!”

“Dashoos - itwabnt dashoos!”

“Get ahold of yourself, Mom!” *giggle, giggle*

Deep breath…deep breath….”I said, ‘it wasn’t the shoes’! Patrick’s WAAAAY taller than me!” (I was too upset to use proper grammar…sorry, Mom.)

Sammie came out of her room, laughing sweetly and gently at me. She wanted to see for herself. She made me show her - she was shocked, too. That is when we subjected silly boy to these photos. And Sam, of course, had to get in on the action!

There is a pic in my mind of another photo of Patrick that is haunting me, and has been haunting me, since I made this cruel discovery of height. I can’t get it out of my head. I will have to dig it up out of the basement and show it to you. It’s making me absolutely crazy - tormenting me with memories of a sweeter, shorter time. Ha!





See, Trace? I’m still a fatty - I’m just a 25lbs. less fatty. ;)

Don’t mind my ‘in the middle of a TWO YEAR long remodel’ house - my contractor husband’s gonna get right on that! Yeah….

In summary, though - Just who in the heck does this silly boy think he is?!