In Which They Used Their Walking Feet

He is five years old (five and a half he likes to point out). And she is three.

Five and three? When did that happen?

This weekend, we decided the night prior to participate in the Southern Maine Heart Walk. And if that crazy spontaneity wasn't enough, would you believe we didn't even bring a stroller?

It's funny to think that our strongest candidate for a stroller was actually the one walking the dog for a good bit of the event. (Okay, well the dog might have been walking her, but still, it's some serious progress in terms of mobility.)

And then the boy--who apparently grew out of his pudgy toddler legs during the split second I wasn't looking--had to show off too. Climbing trees and scaling walls as if he wasn't born yesterday. But he was. I'm his mother. Trust me. It was yesterday.

And would ya look at that? She's sitting still! For a stranger! So unfair! Every time I even attempt to brush her hair, she ducks and runs. I need a degree in Kinetic Cosmetology just to finagle a barrette into her hair. But noooo, Stranger Lady can tickle those cheeks till there's a pink heart on her face, and she'll just sit there, eyes closed, angelic.
(In case you're going to google Kinetic Cosmetology, I feel I should tell you I just made that up. But I do think it would be a useful field of study--if someone could just be the pioneer--to learn how to chase my little piece o' work and style her hair at the same time.)

While we walked along the Back Cove, a whole family on foot, I toggled between astonishment at how quickly they've grown, regret over how much of it I wished away, and relief at how much easier it is now in this stage--when their own two little feet can take them places.

I just love those little feet. And I always will, no matter how many sizes they grow, no matter how many miles away they walk.

::

Linking up with Emily for Tuesdays Unwrapped, grateful for the little gift of little feet--footloose and stroller free.