My last night having a first born 5 year old

Every year on my birthday my mom says to me "I remember the day you were born...we were at Uncle Brian and Aunt Karen's wedding the night before...I danced the night away...the whole Herwig family was there...I felt contractions...called Uncle Steve, (an ENT doctor, poet, biker, photographer and more) who suggested I go to the hospital...so I went...they told me not to push...I didn't, and... PLOP, there you were...without a push...just so ready to come into the world!"

And then I hear about my 1st birthday, my 2nd, my 9th, my 16th, my 33rd, and on it goes.

I roll my eyes and wait for the end of this story. Every. Single. Year.

(Inside my heart is soaring that someone cares so much about me, and knows me, and has always known me so well.)

Thank you Mom I love you.

I tell you this story, because tonight is Lily's last night being 5 years old.

In a matter of hours she turns 6.

I find myself wanting to tell her she will always be My Baby.

But she has trumped me on this one, she tells me "Mom I have a secret" and she whispers in my ear "I am not always going to be a baby. But you will always be My Mom."

Here is the last picture I will ever take of Lily being 5.

And I say to myself

"I remember the day she was born."

When I sang her lullably tonight, she asked that I don't embarass her when I go with her to kindergarten tomorrow and she also asked that she pick out what I wear.

So I can look teacher-y.

And that I not announce in a loud voice that she is now 6, or anything like that.

But I could share her cubby.

And she is so excited to have me.

I am going to laugh and cry myself to sleep now.

I think I will call my mom in the morning to tell her I understand how it has been for her, all these 34 years.

Happy Birthday Eve, Lily Patrice Lowe.