Now I realize that Georgia is not a baby, has not been a "baby" for quite some time. She turns four in May! She's been potty trained for well over a year. She goes to school and writes her name in oversized uppercase. She rides a two wheeler without training wheels. (Yep, she's pretty much a stud!) And in case I do forget, she tells me that she's a big girl and can "do it by myself!" And by it, I mean everything.
And yet..."I hold you momma"-- that phrase, left-over from when she was first learning to form sentences, is spoken at least once a day. Georgia climbs into my lap. Or reaches her arms up. Or wraps her legs around one of mine, looking up at me with the big blue eyes with the long dark lashes. And she makes me STOP whatever it is I am doing simply to hold her. The era of the crib is ending, but in those moments I am reminded that she will always be my baby. Thank God for those moments.
*possible
