Where did it go?

Today PB&J in a Bowl posted about her daughters upcoming birthday. As I was reading this delightful post I glanced at my calender and had a "Oh No!" moment.

Oh No! My daughters birthday is ten days away. Ten, people! As in the number of fingers on both your hands.

Oh No! She is going to be four years old. Four! How did this happen? She was suppose to stay little. She is not suppose to grow up. Sleep through the night, sure. Learn to talk, walk, and feed herself, absolutely. Why can't she accomplish all these milestones and still be my baby? Little enough to hold and carry with me everywhere.

Oh No! I only have one more year until she is old enough to start school. One year goes by fast. I'm not ready to wake up one morning and find that she is a kindergartener.

I really shouldn't be surprised by the passage of time, everyone told me this would happen when I was pregnant with her four years ago. Four short years ago when I was the only woman in her ninth month not begging for my baby to be born. I was as big as a house and I wanted to remain that way forever because pregnancy was a experience I understood, I was not ready for the great unknown that is motherhood.

Now I stand on the cusp of a new era. I am about to face a birthday that marks the first time I haven't wished my child older. My firstborn, my pioneer. From the day she was born I was always pushing her towards the next developmental stage. I wanted her to roll over, sit up, walk, talk, run, ride a bike, jump and swing. Now I want to freeze time. I want to go back to when she was born, and hold her a little longer and a little tighter. I want to breathe a little slower and sleep a little less in hopes that time will slow down.

I cannot do these things. What I can do is spend the next two hours playing with her and hugging her. I can treasure the time I have with her today and do my best to not be distracted from my truest desire, to love and be loved by my children.