Last night as *Steve* made some raucous changing into his pajamas and jumped onto the bed, nearly landing me down the hallway, I began to sob. Not aimless or random sobbing. "I'm losing my little baby. *Mila* is starting school this week and I don't want her to grow up." I have been to Crazytown many times and I know that I do have some irrational exuberance issues, but to sob over something so legitimate and honest was new to me. It wasn't a want or disappointment. I was genuinely sad. She's my baby and she's entering the world with big kids. I am trying to remain stoic and strong to her and comfort her at the same time, telling her how she'll have fun playing with new friends. Deep down I know she will. I wish I could have one ounce of the fun she's about to embark upon. And she's still only 4 and she's my baby. She will cry, scream and kick tomorrow morning when we drop her off. That's one of my biggest worries. But my biggest worry of all is her entering this world. It's a world of uncertainty more so than ever. It's her world too and I have to let her show it a thing or two.
signed, the willow
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