But, now I'm a parent, and I get it. It's the saddest day because I will never have a little 2-year-old daughter again. It's sad because although the days are long, the years are short and my little girl is growing up. Although most days I look forward to this, to her not needing constant supervision during supper, to her one day being able to get dressed by herself, to her realizing that it's not a good idea to poke her brother with her whisks before she does it, to her understanding that finding a new towel doesn't mean she should put her old one in the trash can, I do enjoy so much about her being little, even how she proudly discusses her poop.
Sometimes she'll say something, like tonight during a story where she pointed at a bird with two black spots and declared, "That's a cow bird. See the two black spots?" (because on a previous page I had said "That's a red-winged blackbird. See the red wing?") that makes me think she's brilliant and knows so much for her mere three years on earth. But other times I think of all the things in the world she has no idea about yet. Sometimes this is exciting (Someday we'll take her camping! She's gonna love climbing mountains!) and other times it is terrifying (Someday she'll learn about all the horrible ways humans abuse each other! No! Let her stay young and innocent forever!).
Birthdays are a reminder of both of those things, the good and the bad, that awaits a child growing up in this world. But the really neat thing is that we as parents get to go along for the journey. It's a way to experience the joys and sorrows of childhood, but this time with the equanimity of adulthood. Having her has been a journey, a project, better than fun.
Here is a picture of us on this day three years ago, right before going to the hospital, before our lives changed forever:
And here are two (long) videos of her this morning, her last morning as a two year old:
To see how much she has changed in a year, here is the video from the day before she turned two:
