Audrey’s birthday is coming, very very soon, and then I will have to update that sidebar over there because she will not be thoroughly three, she will be some kind of four.

Abigail asked over the weekend whether I would be sad to not have three-year-old Audrey anymore, and of course I will, a little, because four-not-three means she’s one step closer to grown, and done with being a child, and waaah where did my sweet babies all go, but mostly I’m not. Sad, that is.

I adore squishy little newborns and big, chunky babies. Toddlers I think are both exhausting and delightful, especially when they’re not scaling the stove in the kitchen. And then they just keep getting more fun. Still plenty of work to parent, of course, but fun.

I love getting to watch the older kids develop opinions and ideas and plans for the future. I think it’s really cool to see how their skills and preferences and tendencies now, may lead them to their areas of expertise later. Plus they’re neat to talk with and listen to and teach and learn from and explore the world with.

Audrey will never be three again, that is true, and it’s always a little bit melancholy to walk away from something for the last time. But she’s walking toward something too, something just as good that will keep on getting better.

“And,” Abigail reminded me, “in, like, half a year we’ll have another three-year-old anyway.” Because that’s how long until Sadie’s next birthday, when she will indeed turn three. The two girls aren’t interchangeable, but I see her point. No use missing something when there’s plenty more to come. I can get behind that kind of logic, too.