Marks on the Wall


It’s crazy how much one little pencil line on the wall can mean to a person.

I finally started our measuring wall, in the laundry room, where it’s perfectly out of the way but at the same time, perfectly located so I get to see it every time I come in with a hamper or leave with a pile of folded clothes. Which is often, in my big busy family full of ALL boys. Every time I see it I am reminded of my blessings – and especially the fact that I finally have my own little life to track in pencil lines on the laundry room wall.

Growing up in my family, we always marked our height on the wall in the kitchen. Our tradition was shoes off, back against the wall, stand up straight, and mom would make the mark. Then our name and age – to track us. It was always such fun after we saw our new “marks” – comparing and wondering.

I had no idea that this simple tradition would mean so much more to me once I became a mom. In my own house, with my own little boy’s life to track. My little boy who just learned how to walk, and who understands enough to actually cooperate when I say, “Come here, Hank! Come stand by this wall for mama, we’re going to see how big you are!”

And he does. And I put that first beautiful mark on the wall and I almost don’t believe it’s really there.

There are five other marks on my wall now, too, that make it even more special. Hank’s three big brothers, who he looks up to (literally!) and tries so hard to keep up with, have their own lines and names higher up on the wall. And his sweet cousins, who we are so blessed to live right down the road from, are tracked by the other two marks on my wall. I have watched my niece and nephew grow up right before my eyes, the last 11 (and 7) years, and it always blows me away how fast they change.

With my own little one now, it is even harder! With Hank, it is like the movie is on fast-forward. Every day he does something major that he couldn’t do the day before. This week it was nodding his head yes and saying “yeah!” when I asked him if he wanted to go for a ride with Grandma.


I’d flex, but I like these jammies

Another new thing this week is not fitting into his 24 month sized sleepers anymore. I am not quite ready for him to be sleeping in big boy jammies – so daddy and I cut the sleeves half off so we could get those huge paws and Popeye arms into them! That ought to buy me a few more weeks, anyway!

I am so excited to watch Hank’s mark catch up to those first marks of his three big brothers and his big cousins. Even though it will be way faster than I want it to be. And as soon as I can talk daddy into backing up to my wall, he will get the most important mark of all. I know without a doubt, that his will be the mark that all four boys can’t wait to catch up to. (Or maybe even beat by an inch or two!)

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