My Girl is having a birthday today.  Man oh man.  The thing about kids is that they grow up.  They are physical reminders of the time passing by.

It’s not so much that I lament getting older – it’s realizing that the babies and toddlers and preschoolers I loved so dearly are gone. 

I truly love the long-legged girl before me, but I also miss the Tweety bird that used to hide behind my legs.  The tiny gal with big cheeks, big blue eyes, and a little tuft of blonde hair at the top of her head.  Where is she?

At the same time, I realize I must appreciate Present-Day Girl for she, too, will be gone before I know it. 

Present-Day Girl loves animals so desperately, she cries at the thought of one in peril.  She adores the cat across the street, but was very angry with him yesterday for catching a bird.  She sobs every time she watches “Snoopy Come Home.”  And all through this past Christmas, she kept asking what Santa was doing to protect the polar bears.  After all, he lives right there next to them, doesn’t he?

Present-Day Girl loves music and singing.  Hubby loves to play a little game with her – without her knowledge.  While she plays or does her homework he will start singing a song aloud, but purposefully stop after a line or two of verse.  Then PDG will pick it right up and continue with it.

At times I see fleeting glimpses of the tot she used to be.  And at times I think I can catch peeps of the young woman she will become.  But not too fast – please.

One afternoon last fall she came over to me and said, “Mom, do you want to know where I hid my pot?”

I froze up from the sudden surge of cardiac activity.  “Uh … yeah.  Please tell me,” I finally replied. 

She took me over to the antique desk in the living room and pointed to the small clay urn she made in art class.  “You told me to put it someplace safe,” she explained.  “So I’m hiding it right there.”

That’s my girl.  Happy.  Imaginative.  Big-hearted.  This is the child who, for her birthday party, decided to collected non-perishable food for a local food pantry instead of gifts.  The child who started crying when she heard Josh Groban crooning during the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade (“Is that man sad?” she asked).  The child who would pick up the lizards her mom is too scared to touch and used to go with her older brother to keep him “safe” when he was afraid to go into the back rooms after dark.

A child who teaches me things every single day.

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl!  I love you!