When she wraps her hand around my finger...

She's a blur of excitement as she runs past me on her way to the back door.

Stop, I say, bring mama your shoes.

She brings them to me, but then sits down and insists on putting them on herself. She gets them on the wrong feet, but is so pleased with herself. "All by 'self!" she tells me proudly.

And I smile at her, and gush over her accomplishment. And wonder when she got to be so grown up. So capable.

She runs off, calling, "Come on, mama! Come ou'side!"

I follow her outside, and I start to water my flowers. She sees what I'm doing, and grabs her plastic shovel, trying to get a few drops of water from the hose. She runs and lets it drip over the snapdragons. "I'm helping mama!" she announces. And again I am struck with the fact that I no longer have a little baby, someone solely dependent upon me.

She trips and falls. Lands with her forehead planted on the concrete. She cries hard, and runs to me for comfort. I pick her up, sit down and rock her back and forth. Kiss her boo-boo, tell her she's ok. She hugs my neck, and is content just to sit there.

She's still my baby, no matter what.