My Baby Turned 6 Today

My baby turned 6 today. My baby. I'm now the proud (and terrified) parent of a 6 year old, a 10 year old and a 13 year old. I no longer have that young kid. I no longer have that little baby faced kiddo. I have a full on First Grader. No more days of watching her try to frantically communicate with us but not know any words. Today she has words that I'm fairly certain she shouldn't have: "That's a totally amazing fantastic shoe!". I no longer have a toddler who giggles and toddles as she tightly holds my hand while we walk wherever. Don't get me wrong, I still have a child that says "I'm tired of walking, can I have up?", but now it's just not as cute. There are no more babies at my house.

Yesterday, I stood in the baby department of BabiesRUs, trying to find an umbrella stroller for her to push her babies around her, as per her request. I started in the toy department and was disappointed when A) all the strollers said from 2+ on the ages (what about the bigger kids???) and B) when they wanted $26 for that flimsy Graco plastic stroller when a metal umbrella real-live stroller was $15. So I'm standing in the baby department gawking over all of the options available to moms: swings that move 24 different ways, because back/forth/side-to-side isn't enough?, bouncers that "exercise their brains"..umm, what?, and strollers in every shape, color, size you could possibly want.


Evidently my gawking looked like confusion to the sweet woman next to me.

SW: "I think there's more strollers around the corner"
Me: "Oh that's okay, I'm thinking just an umbrella stroller is what I need"
SW: "Is your baby older?"
Me: "Oh, yah, she's 6."
SW: "Oh, well, umm. I think the umbrella strollers only hold 30 pounds. Is she on the smaller side?"
Me: "Yah, I'm thinking maybe 5 or 10 pounds. Oh. Wait. Stroller is for her baby dolls, not for her."

And then it hit me. I'll never need to shop in BabiesRUs for my babies again. I don't have any babies. I'll evidently shop there for my baby's babies and please God, may they all be plush for the next 20 years.

And I thought I'd be sad at this revelation, but then as I walked by a $249 baby seat/swing/babysitter/entertainer/part-time parent device, I realized how glad I was to be done with that insanity of the next new gadget, the next new "oh this will make your baby Ivy League smart!" device.  People, just hold your babies. I swear we're one step away from robots taking over...Terminator anyone? Ha!

So I made it through our traditional cake for breakfast and opening of the presents and putting together of the vanity, that I'm still uneasy of the potential future repercussions we might suffer from but am hoping it fuels her creativeness--just as long as she doesn't cut her own hair, again. I made it through the 2 hour birthday lunch at her requested restaurant. Seriously. 2 hours. I made it thorough her prancing around the house singing about how happy she was to finally be 6, having heart palpitations every time the number 6 came out of her mouth. I made it through her telling her dad she didn't need his help washing her hair because she's "6 now, I've got this. No big deal".

And as I tucked her into bed and she told me about her good day, I realized her getting older isn't the worst thing in the world. Yes, I'll miss babies. But, the older they get the more entertaining they get. So I'm ending the day excited and hopeful for the more entertaining she'll become.

I'll probably be sobby, hysterical mess tomorrow though. No babies *Sniffle. Sob. Sniffle*