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:K's age for one more day

Yesterday morning, I was downstairs a bit earlier than normal. Usually, I walk down the stairs, check to make sure every girl is awake and on her way to getting dressed, then head straight to the kitchen to pack school lunches and start breakfasts. Not a lot of taking my time to wake up, savoring the crisp morning air...

But yesterday, I had some time. K was still sleeping in her bed, so I went over, sat down and rubbed her back. K is a big time cuddler, so she loved this. She curved her body into a tighter ball and kept her eyes firmly closed, lest I cease rubbing because she was awake.

As I rubbed her tiny back, I thought about the fact that she will be five on Thursday. Five. I love that my daughters are growing up. I love seeing the young girls they are becoming and getting flashes in a look, thought or action of the women they will one day be. But K is it for our family. I won't ever again get to meet my child for the first time. Don't get me wrong - there are lots of wonderful experiences that await me. But every now and then, I think about the experiences that are behind me, like swaddling a newborn, nursing her to satiation, laying her on my lap and the entirety of her fitting there.

Logically, I don't want another child. I just want K to take her time growing up. Luckily, she is a tiny child - 30 pounds at her 4 year check up. So my bet is that she'll always seem younger to me than she is. And I do love seeing her independence grow, her skills blossom and her imagination soar.

But I hope when it's the eve of her 15th birthday, she still lets me rub her back to waken her.