DD1 is four today. And I feel a bit sad.
It's not that I feel the last four years have 'just flashed by'; far from it, they've been a long hard slog, and have frequently reduced both DP and me to weary tears. But four is so very definitely not a baby or a toddler any more - and she isn't, she's a definite, funny, articulate, clever little person. I can see (as her lovely childminder said this morning) just how ready she's going to be for school, and how much she'll get from and enjoy that - which is an enormous reassurance to me as she sets off into the future. But that's just it: the future. I can do babies, and I do love having babies (slog and tears admittedly involved). This is something very new, and I do feel sad at saying goodbye to what we've had before. DD2 is getting on for two, and really babyhood's a thing of the past in the Inferiority Complex.
I do realise that my misgivings are also to do with my own history - my parents are good at very small children, and then everything goes to pieces, and our relationship deteriorated pretty well permanently from my early teens. I know that doesn't have to repeat itself - that this isn't necessarily the start of a long, permanent and harrowing goodbye. But I'm still worried.
So please reassure me that four and five and six year olds are utterly fabulous, and that this is the start of something really special!