From Looking Up to Looking Down: How Kids Grow, and Parents Shrink!

 

There comes a moment in every parent's life when they realize their kids are no longer the tiny toddlers they once cradled in their arms. It sneaks up on you—one day, you're reaching down to hold their hands, and before you know it, you're craning your neck to meet their gaze. For me, this realization hit hard last year. As 2024 progressed, one of the marked achievements of the year was Me, the Mom Boss in the family being officially declared the shortest member of the family. I've had to accept that I'm no longer the towering authority figure I once was, at least in height. Instead, I find myself quite literally looking up to them, both physically and emotionally.

Growing up in the 80's I always thought that I was in the higher percentile of heights in my generation. I am 162 cms and I pride myself on being the taller ones from Gen X. But enter Gen Alpha where people about 160 cm are also considered short. Now everyone is averaging around 170 cm which makes 160+ seem slightly dwarfy. The first realisation of being short happened when my 14 year old started towering over me 2 years back. I was not able to hug her chest to chest, my head could easily curl up on her shoulder. Enter 2024 and the younger one started pulling up. Till now I felt I still had my little one to hug, hold and bully since she was the shortest. By summers, she was as tall as me. That is when the race began. The race to not being the shortest in the family. Of course, the husband was never in the race. It was a 2 player battle now! Myra would check her height weekly and soon I was officially declared the shortest. 

It started subtly over the years—the time she reached my shoulder height, I chuckled and thought it was cute. But soon enough, she was at eye level. I would stand on tiptoes or wear heels in family photos to avoid looking like the shortest. The day my youngest officially surpassed my height was both amusing and emotional.  And that's when they coined a name for me. I was 'CHOTU' now. And will continue to stay the same forever. Since there is no way I can gain anything now, only inches and kgs nothing on the height scale is moving for me. 

Height isn't just a number; it symbolizes the passage of time. Watching your kids grow taller than you is a tangible reminder of how fast they’re growing up. It’s a bittersweet milestone that marks their journey toward independence and adulthood. And while it can be a little humbling to realize you're no longer the biggest in the family, it's also incredibly rewarding to see them grow into confident, capable individuals.

Being the 'Chotu' in the family has also given me a new perspective on parenting. It’s a reminder that authority and respect aren’t about size. It’s about the bond we share, the lessons we teach, and the love we give. I may be the shortest now, but in their eyes, I’ll always be their parent—the one who stood tall for them when they needed it the most.

Sure, there are practical challenges to being the shortest in the family—like struggling to reach the top shelf or having to ask my kids to grab things for me. But there’s also humor and joy in these moments.  What earlier felt like a shy moment to ask them to reach out to the top shelves of the kitchen is now a moment of pride for me. And while they're lazy to do any chores in the house, they love to grab things that are out of my reach. I get patted on the head and joked, 'Oh, Chotu can't reach there!'

As I look up to my kids now, I realize that I’m proud of the people they’re becoming. And while I may have shrunk in comparison, my love for them continues to grow. After all, parenting isn’t about who stands the tallest—it’s about who stands by your side, no matter what. and this CHOTU is here to stay, no matter what!