Something incredibly sad happened the other day. Like soul-shredding sad. Like eat two lamingtons in a row sad.
The Bella Beast turned five. And started at Big Girl School. In a uniform with a matching hat and shoes and everything.
I hate it when the Fab5 reach certain milestones. Big Son’s first dance. Big Daughter’s first Sunday moving into the church Youth program. The day Little Daughter turned eight and got baptized. Hate it all. Because it means they’re taking another step away from being mine. From being the baby, the child, the person that needed me more than anything else, anyone else in the universe. The start to becoming these people who actually have opinions. And disagree with me. And no longer believe that I know everything.
But what made Bella’s birthday even more crushing for me, was the recognition that this will be the last time I will ever usher a baby from my uterus into school. Bella is my very last baby. There can’t be anymore ( not even accidentally) thanks to the wonders of medical science. As I kissed her goodbye and watched, she walked down the driveway with her Dad and it was like the end of so many things.
My last baby is a Big Girl. And I am sad.