You guessed it. April 13th Happened Again.

So.

If you are tired of me panicking and complaining every April 13th, stop reading now.

I KNOW.  I know.

I have a new baby.

And someday soon he will have a little brother.
(The kind I do not actually give birth too, but adopt)

So why the big fit and panic every April 13th, when my little Precious turns another year older?

Actually, I'm not really sure why.

But I'm sure the way I feel is real.

And I don't like it.

My perfect scenario is her being 5 1/2.

5 1/2 until the end of time.

But if I'm being honest, I know why.

I know why she is my Precious little Princess girl, and even though she isn't the youngest I get physically sick thinking of her growing up.

It's kind of hard to explain, but it has to do with getting a divorce when she was a little, tiny baby girl and being alone and in charge of everything and being so exhausted and alone and scared and alone and stressed and alone.

Except for her.

I could talk to her about everything, and hold her, and confide in her and snuggle all night with her in my bed and tell her all my fears and all my dreams.

And she would look at me with worship and smile a toothless, drooly smile.

And I would feel like I could do another day.

I couldn't burden the other 3.  For them I had to put on a happy face.

But 4?  I could tell her everything.

And as long as I used my best baby voice, she was in heaven.

And so was I.  

And that is why she is so Precious to me.

No more important, or more loved than the others.

But just so Precious.

Dear 4:

Happy Birthday.

You are ten today!

Officially in double digits... 

Your outfit is amazing.

Your party will be even better.

I hope every dream you have today comes true.

Love Forever,

Mom