I've been both dreading and looking forward to writing this post for more than a month now.
As I write this, it's actually 10:53pm on Tuesday, September 13th. My daughter will be three years old in 67... wait, make that 66... minutes.
Usually a plethora of words, I've been having a hard time expressing how I feel about G's birthday. It's a milestone, no doubt about that, and one that is truly bittersweet for her mama, who still feels the same achingly powerful, all-consuming, overwhelming love for the baby who was born -- it seems to me -- only yesterday.
When she turned one, she was still my baby. She was walking, yes, but only with a rudimentary skill level. She couldn't speak -- well, she could, but only a few words here and there. She was still nursing, still dependent on me -- at least to some degree -- for her nutritional needs. 
When she turned two, she was considered a toddler. Her motor skills refined, she could not only walk but run, jump and climb as well. Her language skills were just beginning to blossom, and she could articulate herself rather clearly. But she was still my baby; she still had the cherubic face, round with baby fat, and chubby little legs to support her stocky frame.
But now, at three... well, almost three... all the baby-ness about her is gone. Over the past year, she's sprouted -- not only long, lean legs that have erased her toddler-like appearance, giving her the decided look of the preschooler that she is -- but wings. My girl is beginning to fly. I sent her off for her first official day of preschool this week, and watched her gleefully walk into the classroom without looking back. I found myself look at her back as she started talking to her teacher and playing with her classmates; she was ready to start her new, independent life. I wasn't. As excited as I was for this new beginning, a part of me was yearning to run after her, pick her up and recapture the baby she was just a few years ago.
Being a parent is bittersweet. The whole goal of raising a successful child is to give that child a solid foundation so that -- ultimately -- they grow up to leave us. I've been able to hold on to my baby for three years; now, I can't hold on any longer. I know it's just another birthday, just the first day of preschool... but to me, somehow, it symbolizes so much more than that. It symbolizes her first step into the "real" world, a world that -- increasingly -- doesn't always include me.
Happy birthday, G. Being your mommy for the past three years has been the most amazing, most enlightening, most challenging time of my life. You've taught me more about life -- and about myself -- in three short years than I learned in the previous 26. Thank you, my baby -- for you'll always be my baby, even if you insist that you're now a "big girl" -- for letting me be your mommy.
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Happy 3rd birthday, G!
Reading your post brought such anxiety into my heart, because I too experience these bittersweet moments all too often. I wonder if it ever gets any easier? It hasn't yet for me. I know that a year from today, I'll be feeling as you are, watching my son turn 3. It's with such joy, and yet with such saddness, that we watch as our children grow up. Thinking of you and all the overwhelming emotions you must be experiencing.
Um yah, thanks for the tears. I'd swear we were the same person except for the *few* years in age difference. Your thoughts have mirrored mine...at first it was just little bits of anxiety here and there after R was born... seeing K become more and more independent. But lately, almost overnight, she's turned into a little GIRL. No more baby. Bob and I were just talking about that the other night. And, as I cleaned out her dresser and found some of her newborn items, it REALLY hit me the other night and I bawled my eyes out. I started writing K's 3 year birthday blog about a month ago and you're going to think I copied yours. So so sooo similar. I couldn't finish writing it because I can't find the right words. DOES it get any easier? Lord, I hope so. I'm going to be a wreck.
Happy 3rd Birthday, miss G! I'm pretty sure that the constant "letting go" we'll do throughout their lives at different stages never gets easier.
Happy Birthday G! I hope you have a wonderful day celebrating today!!
To Momma! Sigh... It sucks getting older. And I don't just mean us. I had a really hard time with J starting preschool this year. Putting on his uniform, and still remember the feeling of the stick turning blue & my inability to share with anyone for fear it would disappear. When your stick turned pink, I recall praying for this one to stick & sending you loads of baby dust.
How was all that yesterday, and they are already 3?
Sending you super huge hugs!
Happy Birthday G! I know how you feel. My baby is 5 and he started kindergarten this year. He rides the school bus, he comes home singing the ABC song, and he is starting to look like a tiny version of his future teenage self with cute jeans, Nike shoes, and rugby shirts. Damn watching our children grow up is hard work. But don't fret. It sounds like you're doing a great job and G is going to grow into an intelligent and successful person. And as all mothers know...even when they're big and out there embracing the world...those are our babies and they always have a place to call home, a place to run to in our hearts and in our arms forever. Hang in there.
such cute pictures! no matter how old she gets - she will always be your baby!
wm
I know and understand these feelings.. They hit full force when my G turned three a few months ago, then resurfaced recently as we prepared for her first day of preschool. I can't imagine having both events in the same week! The one thing I never knew about motherhood before becoming a mother was how bittersweet it really can be as you watch your babies grow. I have also never been more aware of time and how quickly it passes. I hope your family had a wonderful time celebrating G's birthday!