"Mommy, you short."

My husband is tall. My children are tall.

I'm short and I have a complex.

I organize my life around my height. Pots in the lower cabinets, spices on the counter. The cabinets on the walls are for storage because I have to pull out a step ladder to reach them. It's interesting seeing the world through a 5' 0" frame when the world is made for people a minimum of 5'4".

I always figured that my kids would outgrow me at some point, probably before they were teenagers but as the years started passing, I realized that they may be in 1st or 2nd grade!

And that, in case you don't realize it, is not cool.

Baby: "Mommy, you short."

"I know honey. I was born that way."

Bugabuga: "Don't be sad, Mom. You'll get big too."

"I'm not sad. I'm happy, but short."

CEO: "Awww. It's okay, do you need a hug?"

"Sure. Big hugs!"

Handsome: "Mommy, you short? Uh oh. Oh no!"

I actually always enjoyed being short. People are always nice when they reach for things for you. I can slip into the train quickly because most people are looking over my head. I have a huge personality, just packaged in a short frame.

Baby: "Don't worry mom, Daddy do it. He's tall, you're short."

Bugabuga: "Mom, why you short?

CEO: "Awww. Do you need a hug?"

Handsome: "Daddy, tall! I tall! Mommy short."

Every day, I hear how short I am. And as I look at the CEO, who is only 18" shorter than me, I think, I need to start wearing high heels!

The kids are so helpful, reaching for things that I can't reach. I hate to break it to them that they are still smaller than me. They are so considerate of my special needs that arise with being a short person. And then I say, like they say to me, when I get too helpful,

"I do it myself!"