So my daughter evidently has been polling her classmates about little sisters. When I picked her up from Grandma's on Wed. afternoon, she promptly informed me that she has decided she does NOT want a baby sister, "because Matthew has 3 of them and says they're nothing but a pain!"

Have I said what an incredibly cool kid she is??? I love to watch her when she thinks no one is around. When she got home yesterday afternoon, she was a little miffed because her mid-term report from her teacher was all A's except for writing. So she gets a piece of paper and pencil and lays down on the floor, on her tummy, propped up on her elbows, and practices her handwriting. No one told her to do this. She has decided for herself that she needs practice on handwriting so her grade will be an A next time. My little perfectionist.

Anyway, I sit back and watch her. I love the way she swings her skinny little legs back and forth, curling her toes with their chipped blue polish. I love how her blond hair is pulled back in a disheveled ponytail that she did all by herself. I love that furrowed brow as she concentrates on improving her handwriting. Sometimes I just want to soak her up, to absorb all the little things she does, because I know I'm going to blink my eyes and she'll no longer be my baby girl. She'll be a 14-yr-old who knows everything and hates her mom.

Is this my problem? I'm scared of my baby growing up? Even if I had another baby, that baby would grow up, too. [SIGH.]

But the overwhelming love and pride I feel when I look at my daughter...Nothing beats that incredible feeling. I gave birth to that little girl. I helped make her what she is. I try to imagine what it must be like to feel that way about 2 or 3 or 4 kids. Wow.