on being 3

Growing up is fun. Suddenly you can wear fun clothes. And text on your new cell phone. And drive and stay out late at cool places like parking lots. And oh my god, the first time you get to wear a bra is like...whoa, huge deal (and then becomes the worst thing in the world every day after that first day). 

But sometimes not all of us grow up.

Like my wrists, for instance. Let's talk about them.

Okay, Emily!

I've always had baby wrists. It's kind of my thing. Everybody's like Oh, there's baby wrists Emily. Again. (I've also always had a baby width face, and baby fingers, and...well that's just a post for another day).

But my wrists, they are tiny. Abnormally tiny. Don't fit with the rest of my body tiny. Definitely don't go with my birthing hips width tiny. I've always known they were tiny. I've accepted that bracelets will just slide up to or past my elbow so I don't wear them. My tiny, itty, bitty, baby wrists are naked wrists. 

There I was on Tuesday, getting measured for an upcoming show I'm in (yay, dancing! yay, performing!) when the seamstress decided to measure my wrist. As she wrapped 1/10 of her measuring tape around my wrist I made some wise crack (that was obviously super hilarious) about having tiny wrists.

Seamstress: Oh honey, wow, you do have tiny wrists.

Me: I know. I guess they just never grew with the rest of me. Hardy har har. 

Seamstress: Yeah, like that girl in here before you, your wrists are even tinier than hers. You're the tallest one I've measured so far and you've had the tiniest wrists so far. Ha! Barely 5.5 inches. Ha!

I got home and thought to myself, Self, I wonder what the average wrist size of a child is?! Let's look it up.

Guess what? 

My wrists are just barely the size of an average 3-year olds. 

Age: 25

Wrist age: 3

Chest age: ...oh wait, that's right, that's for another post.

Happy Friday!

 From me and my 3-year old size wrists to you and yours