By the time I turned 11, my brush with being tall was halted and by age 12, I stopped growing completely. At 5'1", I was staring down the barrel of a life of height restrictions.
So, naturally, I married a man who is 6'2". He comes from a family of
|My husband and I in Jamaica.|
|My husband's 40th birthday party, it was an 80s theme.....|
So I thought I would share some of
1) Tall cabinets. In order to get to the top of my cabinets, I have to get on a stool, scale the cabinets, stand on the counter, balance on tip toe and reach precariously to get what I need. It's fun to risk falling on the hard tile floor for the plastic butterfly cookie cutter.
2) All pants are too long.... And capris.. Well I since they look like high water pants instead of Capri pants, I don't wear them. Luckily, my mom is an excellent seamstress and is very good at hemming pants.
3) Your 12 year old nephew and your 10 year old niece are ecstatic when they reach your height. And my 8 year niece is close to it too. Upon their glee of being taller, I brag that I was taller than my 5 foot tall grandmother (may she rest in peace), but then again, everyone was.
4) I am not a terrific swimmer. I feel more comfortable in the four feet and below section of the pool. This becomes an issue when your 18 month old floats in his floatie bat mobile into the five foot and over 4 foot section. Multiple times.
5) Driving. In the past, my husband's car had this awesome seat memory feature. Push a button, and the seat moved all the way up to my position. Push another button, it went all the way back for his position. We don't own that car anymore, and yes, I still move my seat all the way up to the front and as high as it will go. Of course, I do an evil giggle when valets and car repair men bang their knees getting into the car.
But being short isn't all bad.
I am a damn good limbo player.
When I fall, it's not as far.
I make a great armrest for my husband.
I am closer to my kids (for the time being).
Good things come in small packages.