I thought I had more.
It became painfully obvious early this spring that Reagan's church sandals from last year were not going to work for her this year. With some effort she's squeezed into them. And I've kept my promise to her to search out a good bigger-size pair for her.
My thrift store shopping produced no results. Walmart had a few cheap options. I'm not afraid to buy clothes at Walmart. But I don't often buy shoes there because I've learned that the cheaper they are the shorter time they last.
And I have another girl who will, most likely, need footwear.
There was a combination of factors that drove me to scour the internet this past weekend. Memorial day sales that I couldn't shop in person were at least offered on the world wide web. And I did something I don't very often do. I bought new clothes (from an actual store) instead of second-hand items for my oldest.
Given the fact that Reagan has more and more specified taste in clothes as she gets older, I made sure to run each item in my virtual shopping cart by her. She approved them and I hit "checkout".
The clothes came today. It's not a lot of things but it's a good start on what she'll need for summer and for school. I was so excited about the cute sandals I got that I ran out to where she was playing the driveway to show her.
I thought I'd bought at least half a size big. I was sure there would be plenty of wiggle room. I was absolutely wrong. They fit her perfectly now.
I look at all three of my kids and yeah, obviously, they are growing. This is not a shock to the system. What throws me is that it comes in distinct spurts. Last week I sold several pairs of Hunter's shoes. They had worked okay not that long ago and all of a sudden they pinch.
I've sent Maddie downstairs to put on a different shirt because she was showing entirely too much skin in a shirt that wasn't supposed to show skin.
They grow and change and that is so very good.
And yet it always surprises me. I can't tell you how many times I've said, "What do you mean it doesn't fit?!" in some form of gentle outrage.
All this growing reminds me of a truth I know - these years will go fast. How much longer will I be able to pick out her clothes for her at all? How much longer will she let me put bows in her hair? How much longer will he want to climb in my lap for a snuggle or for a story?
I'm not mourning the passing of time, really. There's so much good in the time I have had that I can't mourn it.
But I get stuck too often thinking its unlimited. We'll soak up today. We'll buy the new shoes. We'll learn to shop in new collaborative ways. And we'll be thankful for the good that we've had.