The clock struck midnight a few minutes ago. Our youngest, our littlest one, is 7 today. There is so much to be happy for in that, but there is a tinge of sadness in my heart, too. She is losing her baby face, her baby teeth, her soft baby hands. As she gets older, it gets harder to shelter her, to protect her. Right now, Daddy and I are everything to her. I know we won't always be her everything.
One day recently, she peeked into the room where I was sewing with our 12 year old ballerina, then rushed out. Our ballerina said, "That's the 3rd time she's done that." I said, "Yes. She's checking on me. When you're 6, if mama is okay, the entire world is okay." Our ballerina said, "When you're 12, too," but I know that is less each day. One day, hopefully, she'll have a family of her own, with a little 6 year old checking on her.
Even though I'm a bit sad to see her turn 7, I so look forward to the future with her, that I cannot allow that tinge of sadness to grow. I cannot wait to see where her beauty, her intelligence, her happiness, her natural gift for art, take her. I cannot wait to meet her children, too, someday. To her little girl, I will say one day as I said tonight, "Let me hug you extra long tonight. It's the last hug I will ever have from 6-year-old you."