I know you’re four now, baby girl.

That’s big.

That’s taller than my hip-bones big.

That’s going to school big.

That’s a little too big.

Bigger than I sometimes want you to be.

Because I can’t help but want to slow down time.

Pause those moments that make my heart skip a beat.

The way you still cuddle into my arms when you’re tired.

And then tell me that I’m squishing you in your sternest voice.

The way you run to me when you’re scared.