ONCE I WAS TWENTY YEARS OLD

And the last thing on my mind was having a family.  I was mostly concerned with where my next rum drink was coming from and if I was going to get an A on my Bio exam.  Obviously.  Fast forward 10 years and my Mom passed away right in front of me, the day before my 30th birthday.  Fast forward again and I am beyond lucky to have a wonderful husband and daughter and dog.  How did that even happen?

So. Emma.  She will be 4 in August.  FOUR.  I mean, what?  Each day I am so totally sad that she's not a baby and her feet are large and that she's learning all sorts of words (mostly ones that she uses sarcastically).  And each day I try to enjoy the girl that she is that day, because the next day she's going to be freaking bigger than the day before.  And it's all sorts of messed up.  Mix in wishing for her to go to bed quietly and all of these things add into a crazy Christmas wish list that no one could figure out.

The scary of it is that soon, she will actually be five and you're five when you go to kindergarten and that's just too much for me.  And I don't even still know how I go to this point because I distinctly remember calling David to tell him that this baby was on the way and I asked him if he wanted to have a baby and he said yes and I said "well, I don't know....maybe we can wait the three weeks until she was supposed to arrive."  For the love.  I was so stupid nervous and scared and not wanting to do any of this until I had mentally planned that this was happening.  And none of it happened how I thought.....and he marched in and said "you should be glad you had a c-section, can you hear that lady next to us?"  Well, yes.  I guess.

And I never EVER really got past the thought I might actually die in that hospital room to stop and think how amazing that this little girl that came about because of the two of us was.  And how little she was and how each day I would want to go back to the one before.  I miss that.  I miss that excitement of a new life and all things were about me and her and her and me.

Now things are about her wanting ice cream and not eating her green beans and throwing her shoes across the room and refusing to put on her underwear.  Gosh, it's great.  And it's not.  But tomorrow I will miss it.