My youngest turns 6 today. It is the official end of the ‘baby years.’ This year, she will grow a couple of inches; lose the chubby cheeks, knees, elbows, and toddler belly. She’ll probably even lose that cute ‘baby way’ of talking. “Them don’t know, mama.” I let her sleep in my bed last night because I wanted-no- needed to be close to her when she magically turned 6 in the night. Of course, the kick to the ribs at 3:00am reminded me why I don’t like to sleep with her all night. (Sometimes she wants to come into the bed to fall asleep and her daddy will transfer her to her own bed.)
Last night, I was filled with visions of babies, knowing that she’s my last. My heart ached, but a hard kick to the bladder, reminiscent of when she would do that from the INSIDE, brought me back to reality. What was I thinking? My 42 year old body could never handle another pregnancy. My 42 year old mind couldn’t handle another kid. So I’ll hug my sweet baby and enjoy the fact that she is growing up and there are many more adventures to be held…thankfully, changing diapers is no longer one of them. Happy Birthday, Julianna Rose!
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