At church Sunday, as Lola got a wee bit squirrely toward the end, I picked her up, holding her on my hip while we swayed and sang closing hymns together.
She's no longer my little 2-year-old. And I'm afraid the years of cradling her or dancing with her in my arms are quickly fading.
She starts kindergarten this fall.
This morning, as we drove to preschool, we played, again, our favorite morning game: counting school buses.
We set a new record: 18.
But how much longer before that game gets old?
We've been playing it off and on now for two years, both working on her counting skills and getting her excited to ride the bus herself some day.
She went so quickly from baby to infant to toddler to preschooler.
And it's really only been in the last couple of weeks that we've seen her emerge from the preschooler stage.
She's feisty, with attitude.
She's girly, but in a more grown up way.
She's picking up on more phrases and references that Ray and I used to be able to sneak by her.
Last week, we found her "cuddles" buried in my closet.
Her precious cuddles...
She didn't even know what it was.
The blanket she wouldn't let out of her sight two years ago was long forgotten.
Do I sound wistful?
I am, yet I'm not.
I don't mourn the lost of her infancy, though I do find myself surprised it's gone by so very, very quickly.
I'm excited, and incredibly proud, to watch her grow into the young girl she is becoming.
She is kind.
She is considerate.
And, yeah, just a little vain.
Stubborn as heck.
But she's smart.
She makes us smile.
Every single day.
- Bethany :)