Closer to Fine

Bear with me, because this is going to sound more than a little pervy at first.

I am going to miss my daughter's vagina when she is potty trained. Don't get me wrong. I can't wait to put my poop wrangling days far behind me. When Anonybabe can take responsibility for her own bowel movements, I will be dancing in the streets. But it dawned on me yesterday when I was wiping her down and giving her a good spot check to make sure everything looked to be in good working order, the deep level of intimacy we are still swimming in. We left breastfeeding behind almost four months ago, and I'm still amazed at how quickly "our" community property boobs became mine again. In less than a month I became uncomfortable letting her nurse the few sporadic times she would ask for it. It ain't no thang but a chicken wang for me to clear her own feces out of all her crevices, but pretty soon that will be as odd as it is when she asks me if she can help me wipe.

Time is joyfully marching on. Anonybabe learns new and exciting skills every day. Her circle of experience and independence is ever widening. And I'm happy for her. But I'm a little sad to leave some of her baby closeness behind.

I feel like I need a little grieving ceremony each time this happens. Something to help me let go so I can look forward to the next big phase we pass through.