Big shoes to fill

It's been a monumental week. Monday, I faced the mob to register Libby for kindergarten (insert deep breath here). I am ok with the fact that my wee little one (or my BABY #1 as we've been refering to her as of late) will start school. However, I'm not as ok with the fact that she's so stinkin' BIG. I mean, why does five have to essentially equal pre-teen? Can't she just stay five, as in little kid five not so much pre-teen five, for a little while longer? Say three or four more years?
I asked her what she thought about this idea last night. She said she wouldn't mind staying five except that she wants to have a birthday party come September. I, of course, said no problem; we can celebrate staying five for one more year. At this, my little mother-since-birth, cupped my face in her little hands, and said, "Mom, I'm gonna turn six. But I promise you can still be my mommy, and I'll still let you come to my wedding. Would you like me to read you a story now?" I swear; that kid has more mothering genes in her pinky toe than I have in my entire body. I don't think anyone ever looked at me when I was little and said, "That one was born to be a mom".......but I find myself wanting to say this about Lib at least once a week. I, my dears, have big shoes to fill.

Speaking of big shoes, check out this pic.:

For once, I wasn't the one behind the camera. Lib's dance teacher actually took this one, and those are actually her shoes. Lib was wearing them while trying to convince her that SHE should be the dance teacher that day. And I think she could do it, by the way. Once again, I've got big shoes to fill, folks.