Maybe He'll Wear Suits When He's 11

Travis woke up excited about a loose tooth.

Well.

Just like that, he grew up. So, now after I finish ironing our Sunday clothes, I just leave the hot iron right on the board unsupervised. I let him make his own waffles and drive himself to school and back.

No.

He hasn't actually lost the tooth yet. I'll post a picture after he does. Here's his before picture...

My initial thought was to grab Tom and tell him to book a trip where we are gone a long time and come back pregnant or else.

I hadn't imagined an extended feeling of regret for not having more children or any regret for that matter. I've been disciplined for 'content' my entire life. And yet, after days and days, I am still wondering if I was supposed to stop at 3.

Last Thursday, I asked my friend if she felt the same when her youngest lost his first tooth and she shook her head back and forth and replied, "Nope." (Could she be more convincing in her resolve?)

So, it's all my fault. See? Tom and I had a debate about this, but I was too stubborn and too worried and too stubborn to consider it until now, when Travis is almost 6 and toothless and can read and pour his own milk...in a cup.

But whether I choose to have number four or not, doesn't really matter. He keeps growing and so does Matthew and Makayla. (Look at her up in that photo above? She was 8 then. See what I mean?)

Before I know it, Travis will be ironing his own Sunday shirts. That's the plan at least...except he's stubborn and worried and stubborn about church.

He told his cousins last weekend he will never wear a suit...

Nope.
Nope.
I won't do it.
Nope.

But maybe in 6 years, when he is almost old enough to pass the sacrament and makes his own living, he will consider what he missed by not wearing a suit, why he wears his play clothes under his church clothes, and if he should change his mind about the whole stubborn decision he made when he was only 5.