…first started, I saw so many posts on Facebook from moms who were wondering where the years had gone. They could not believe that their babies were starting kindergarten or first grade. How could that be?? About that same time, I saw an article in a magazine that talked about “Tiny White Sock Days”.
We all remember those days. They were the ones where you saw a tiny white sock on the floor or in the laundry basket that had somehow lost its mate. It ended up in the “lost sock basket” or placed in the clothes drawer with the hope it would somehow be reunited with its other half. That usually happened about the same time that pigs flew.
Then I started thinking about what those tiny white socks really represented. They were a reminder of sleepless nights, spit up on clothes, the first laugh, the first tooth, the first steps, and a soft, sweaty little head with a fever in the middle of the night. They reminded of us of not REALLY knowing what we were doing and having to punt.
They give you a manual to study and then a license to drive a car. As a new parent you got diddily squat in that area when you left the hospital. There was a bag filled with goodies and samples, but what did you do with them? Which end did any of it go on? When you first encountered those little socks in the dryer, you were pretty sure a whole boatload of elves had moved in!
Other tiny white sock worries…will eating three peas and a cracker one day, balance out the day before, when all food was inhaled like a vacuum cleaner on high speed? Will a mother’s spit scrubbed on a cut result in a rampant infection, or is it better than nothing at all when water isn’t available? This is the same mother’s hand and spit that slicks down wild hair before a family picture. Is wiping a dropped pacifier on your jeans OK? Does a dog’s Aslurpy kiss on the hands or mouth of an infant or small child need a tetanus shot? Or are we back to a mother’s hand and spit?
The tiny white socks also reminded us of a toddler running around and shrieking out of pure joy, playing with the cousins. Or the shrieks might have been because there was a seam in the toe of the sock, which can be felt by little toes. Can’t do anything about that…one would think the tiny sock industry would have figured out by now that little bitty toes don’t like seams.
Ultimately, those tiny white socks reminded us of our own vulnerability and the almost overwhelming responsibility for those tiny white sock wearers in our care. Kisses and mother’s spit will make it all okay. Don’t sweat the small stuff…as you carefully put away those tiny white socks.