Being wistful

More than once, Ashley has vehemently told me (and I quote) "Heyyy! Stop calling me baby!  I am not a baby anymore.  I am going to K1 you know!  I am going to tell Teacher M that you called me baby."
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I still insist on calling her baby, which annoys her to no end.. She doesn't understand yet, when I told her "Yes, mummy knows you are going to K1.  But you will always be my baby."

Yes, the pangs of wistfulness hit me now and again.  Even though I had always knew that my baby will grow up and had also known to cherish all those moments past when she was still a baby, I still can't help feeling wistful over it.  Too fast, too soon.

Friends and I were just talking about time, the other day.  I found it interesting, how we looked at it from different perspectives.  To me, time flies and I commented "Very soon, it'll be another 15 yrs gone by.  And my girl will be all grown up and I'll be old.".  To my friends, they commented "Wow, can't imagine working for another 15-20yrs..."

As I grow older ( and wiser >.< ), I begin to lament the passing of time and wish I wouldn't grow old so fast.  No doubt, I don't deny that I don't like the idea of growing old.  Who does?  The paradoxical thing is that when I was young, I wished and wished that I'll grow up fast and begin to live my own life, the way I want it.

I understand how my child feels when she puts her foot down and demands that I stop calling her baby.  In her young mind, she's not a baby anymore, in the literal sense.  But what she has yet to understand is that she'll always be my baby (even if not literally, then figuratively).