I stumbled on this picture of Tate this weekend, and had a moment. A long period actually where I felt sad, really sad, as I reflected on this perfect moment of time. I remember it so well. My favorite stage of her. She had just turned two and we had not yet started our crazy adventure of moving to another country... and back. More importantly, she was little. Up until very recently I have not been sad to see her reach a milestone, learn something new, or explore her independence. It was all very exciting and I encouraged it proudly. But now I am sad. I look at these pictures, and while it all seems like yesterday, she is a completely different kid. Not a baby anymore, by any means. She is a little girl. She doesn't need to sit on the counter to help me bake anymore- she can reach on a small stool. Her chubby cheeks, and dimples on her knuckles are gone. She dresses herself, and no longer needs to drink from a sippy.
And not that four hasn't brought a whole new slew of adorable things for her. She is still just as sweet, if not more. I am sad because I don't know that I'll get another one. A girl that is. For the record, I'm thrilled to be having twin boys. But, just like I never thought I'd have twins, I also never thought I'd only have one girl. We plan on three kids, and will get them quickly in just two pregnancies.
I wish I'd known that she would most likely be my only girl, and somehow figured out a way to slow down time. It's not that I have regrets, I'm confident that I soaked all of her up, as much as I could have. I'm good at that. I just wish time would stop now.
I'm not at all ready to say goodbye to my baby girl.