This is a story I didn’t want to write. This is a story you are all too familiar with…or will soon be if you plan on having children. This is a story that will make you cry. So why write this story at all? As her youngest is soon turning five, a friend of mine is already missing those itty-bitty socks around her house. Didn’t have the heart to tell her that it’s been over ten years since we had itty-bitty socks at our house, and it’s with great sadness I state what most parents already know.

I miss them still.

The smallness of a newborn is both breathtaking and daunting – at least it was for Yours Truly. This new addition to the family looks up from their crib with wide blue eyes full of love, knowing that you’ll take care of their every need. As a new parent, you may not fully understand what all those needs are, but you will soon. (I admit I read many books on taking care of babies. Unfortunately, they didn’t help much in real life.)

It is truly a miracle how small and helpless the new little one is. Still, growing up is hard with lots of bumps and bruises along the way, and we want to do everything we can to minimize them – even from the very start. Everything possible is done to fulfill their needs and make sure they are comfortable. New parents stay up for midnight feedings, countless diaper changes, and of course, making sure their baby is warm enough. And one of the most important things to keep your little one warm is the smallest.

Itty-bitty socks.

If you are not shocked at how little your newborn is, just start that first load of laundry. Everything is so small from onesies, caps, crib sheets, blankets, bibs, and of course, the smallest of small – itty-bitty socks. But socks aren’t only for little feet. At bedtime they go on little hands too.

Socks on hands.

It sounds like a Dr. Seuss book I know, but there’s a good reason for socks on hands. Little hands come equipped with little fingers and little thumbs – all of which have the littlest of little fingernails – fingernails that are very sharp and will leave scratches all over that angelic face by the morning.

All too soon your new baby will outgrow the crib, leave behind all those midnight feedings, and the countless diaper changes, caps, and onesies will be long forgotten in the distant past. There will also be one more thing gone but not so easily forgotten – those first itty-bitty socks.

Gone, but not forever.

Last weekend The Wife and I took our ‘tween granddaughters shopping for clothes and naturally wandered through the baby section marveling at how small things were. Then we rounded a corner and saw the socks. Sadly, I remember how small things were and how one white sock could fit into the palm of my hand. Seems like a lifetime ago that our granddaughters took up the smallest of space in their crib, but their needs now are much the same as they were then. Love them, keep watch over them at night if they call out, comfort them, keep them warm with blankets and, of course, socks – though now in much larger sizes.

The doctor will see you now.

Last week was Dr. Seuss week at our elementary school. The students and brave teachers enjoyed dressing accordingly to the book assigned for each day. Tuesday was wacky sock day, so I joined in the merriment by wearing two different colored socks. It was still a little chilly outside, so I decided to wear a school sweatshirt. Before leaving, The Wife asked why my socks didn’t match.

“Today is wacky sock day.”

She asked me to wait a minute and went into the bedroom. Soon she returned and pinned something up high on the back of my shirt. “Perfect. Now you can go to work.”

I asked her what it was. Her only answer was, “The kids will love it.” And she was right. From the very first child I walked past to the very last, they each said the same thing with a chuckle, “Mr. Rick, you have a little sock on your back.”

The teachers asked the same question, but a little differently, “Mr. Rick, you do know you have a sock on your back…right?”

It was one of the most enjoyable days that I’ve spent working at the elementary school. (And there have been many.) I thought the day couldn’t possibly get any better, but I was wrong.

The warming up of the day was gradual, but by the time I returned home, the temperature finally had reached 70°, way too warm for a sweatshirt. After pulling it over my head, I was finally able to see what The Wife had pinned on my back early that morning. I laughed out loud. Pinned on the back of my sweatshirt, way up high out of reach of the littles, was something so small it fit into the palm of my hand so many years ago.

An itty-bitty sock.