Seasons.

I am not a fan of change.

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I have a good friend that reminds me that when things change, it is just another "season."

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Today, as I was baking Emma's birthday cupcakes, I thought of all the different seasons that I have been thru in the past several years. With all the seasons, there are particular things in life that remind me of those times.

• When I think about being pregnant with Tripp, I think about picking Dave up at the airport. I always remember one maternity shirt in particular. It was a white button down top. 3/4 sleeves. Big collar. I wish I could wear it now.

• When I think about being pregnant with Emma, I get a lonely feeling and I think about laying on the couch - alot.

• When I think about Eli's birth, I think of the beach. I also get a pseudo-cramp in my left shoulder cause he wouldn't sleep unless he was laying on that arm.

• When I think of Dave, I think of men's cologne. Inappropriateness. Laughter. His fake voices. Holding hands. We still hold hands when we go to sleep.

• When I think about all my friends from the Y, I think about eating a hamburger from Sonic.

Anyways, you get the picture.

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So, the season I am faced with this week is that my daughter is going to be six years old. Sometimes it makes me sad she is growing up. When she was littler, she would always come downstairs in the middle of the night to potty. When she was age two, three or four, she would get me up to go to the bathroom with her. When she was done, she always sat on the stool and looked at me.

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I remember thinking at that time, when it made me so mad to have to wake up, "One day, she will not come get me. She will just go on her own." And then, I would not be mad anymore, because I know that the season would change. She would eventually go by herself.

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She does not come get me anymore.

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I wish I could go back to the days of seeing her little face, so tired, looking at me in the middle of the night. I wish I could go back to potty training, the days of doing nothing, watching Dora. I miss all my kids little bodies, their sweet breath, their kisses. I miss my double stroller. I miss walking around in the middle of the day, going from store to store, going to the park, playing, playing, playing.

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New things are going to happen this next year. A girl changes from age six to age seven. More indepth conversations will be had, tears will be shed, drama will unfold. She will get her feelings hurt. She will hurt others feelings. We will laugh, cry and go shopping. This will be a great season.