For most of that first year, I wore her in a wrap as many hours a day as I could because I knew she was the last baby I would have to hold and cuddle.
Even when she was too big to hold, I still thought of her as my baby. Admittedly, I sometimes tried too hard to protect her and comfort her. But I liked the thought of her needing me, so I kept wiping the tears and holding her close as she went from a baby to a toddler.
And now, she's six years old! Six?!
She is beautiful...
And full of life...
And definitely NOT a baby. There are still tears to wipe, but not as many. The opportunities to hold her close are fewer and further between. But I love the girl she has become -- confident, curious, funny and a total chatterbox.
I'm so proud of her.