No, it is not some strange Miley Cyrus new dance move we encourage as an alternative to her "Wrecking Ball". Nor are we offering "pole dancing" performance art from our humble abode here in the W. Va. hills.
So if you have arrived at this blog post expecting some erotic exposition of scantily dressed individuals, well, I am sorry to disappoint. But while you are here, I challenge you to consider what probably is a memory of most childhoods.
Measuring our (your) children's annual growth.
Our third "hottling" recently celebrated his 10th birthday. It was that day that my hotthubby, Dan, announced, "Come on Isaac! It's time to 'put you on the pole'!"
You see, ours is a log house structure and smack dab in the center of our living room is a, well,... a pole!
Seen here, it appears to be freshly cut from the forest, right? (Well, it sort of has.) You will notice the plethora of names and numbers along our family "pole".
For the Hott Family, it is a bi-annual occurance for each child to be "put on the pole." We mark each child's height on their birthday as well as their "half birthdays" until at which time they cease to reach new verticle measurements.
Which, for this 48-year-old-grey-haired-pd bloggin-mama-of-four, marks another sort of life measurement all together. After so many calculations marked, and some include frequent visits from nieces, nephews, and cousins (and the occasional random neighbor kid who just wants to be included on the pole), each tiny mark "marks" a moment in my heart.
You see, this day in history marked the time that my now 10 year old has reached my height. Grant it, it's barely 5 feet for me. But, for a short (haha!) moment in time my next to youngest will look his mommy eye to eye. And, before you know it, Levi will catch up to me too.
For now, I will cherish the time because as they get older (and some reaching the opposite side of the pole) we won't always see "eye to eye", right?
Then our sons in their youth
will be like well-nurtured plants,
and our daughters will be like pillars
carved to adorn a palace.
So, tell me. Is there a "pole" in your house too? Maybe a door frame or closet door?
I may not always be tall enough to measure my children (nieces, nephews, cousins...) on the pole, but we will always see heart to heart. And for those 6'7" relatives of mine, it is always fun when you return to Hott Mountain to find your mark on Aunt Angie and Uncle Dan's pole... and heart!