The Birthday Girl

I was driving to work today and I was thinking about the smallest person in the house and her birthday tomorrow. She'll be 4.  A wave of nausea washed over me. I'm not sure why. All I know is that everytime I think about her turning 4 tomorrow I feel a bit sick to my stomach.  She is wise beyond her years. She acts and looks older than 4.  One day she wants to be a cowgirl and the next she has no clue what she wants to be besides a fashion model.

I could do without the whining that has snuck up on us in recent weeks. It's daily torture that usually precedes a crying fit over something so unimportant you simply have to shake your head and walk away.

I can only guess that ill feeling is the realization that I no longer have any babies and that I won't be having any babies in my house. The feeling that I am no longer 100% needed. She wants to do most things herself. The times I want to go out by myself I cave when she begs to tag along just to prolong our together times because I know she won't want to come with me much longer.  And even though she always has a big grin on her face when she sees me at the end of the day I can't help but wonder if it's just so I'll give her gum. I look forward to other fun stuff with her but will always miss having those special Mom and baby times. So bittersweet these birthdays are.