Yesterday Eliza turned 8 years old. This is the fifth time i have written a birthday post for her in these pages. She has grown from the cutest red-haired toddler to an amazingly strong and independent second (almost third) grader.

How our lives have changed in these four years.

And she has changed. Gone from the little girl who cries every morning before school to the little girl that cries for different reasons and loudly voices her frustrations with the world and skips happily at other times.

Eliza is a complicated little girl who feels her emotions to the core. In many ways the separation of her parents has been hardest on her. She likes to be certain of what is happening, thrives on consistency. Needs to know the details of what is happening during her day. Every morning when i drop her at school she stops on her way to the school doors, turns around, and asks "mommy? will you see me at recess?" I try not to get frustrated with her need for clarification because her world has been anything but certain for a few years. "Yes eliza, i see you every recess."

"I know. Bye mommy. Love you."

I love you too eliza. My little mini me. Sometimes i feel guilty for passing on these genes to you. The worry and anxiety. But we will work through it together.

You amaze and thrill me. Make me proud. I am so excited to watch you grow. To have the great honour of your love.

This is a picture i took of eliza on her fourth birthday. This is what i wrote about her that day.

Today my youngest daughter is seven years old. She has changed so much in the years since i took that picture, yet held on to a lot of her little quirks. She is really a little mini-me. Feisty at home, shy with others, only a few friends - but real good friends.

She drives me crazy at times bouncing back and forth between defiant and needy. She cries before school most mornings because she doesn't want to go but, when i go worriedly check on her a couple hours later i see her running and laughing with her friend.

She is an excellent student. A real love of learning, just like her big sister. She is an emergent reader and excellent at math, yet unlike her siblings not all that keen on art.

She has outgrown most of her health issues, but still has a life-threatening allergy to peanuts and tree nuts. She worries more about this now and still won't go for playdates at other people's houses because of it. She is taking more responsibility for carrying her epipen and watching what people are eating around her.

The separation has been hardest on eliza. She is such a passionate creature and really misses her dad or me when she is not at our houses. I'm sure this is part of her worry about school each morning. She stays home way more days than she should because i am trying to protect her fragile little heart.

I love her with all my heart.

Today Eliza turned six years old. She is the most wonderful youngest daughter i could have ever been so lucky to meet.

She has so much of me in her it worries me a bit. But as i've watched her grow emotionally and socially in this, her first year of school, i couldn't be any prouder.

I had the good fortune to be able to go to kindergarten with her for the first six months. I watched her take each step with a bit more confidence. In may when her teacher gently nudged me out of the room i sat amazed as she would sigh as i walked out the door but then as i peaked in through the windows i could see her do a little mental affirmation, an "i can do this' shake of her arms, and then run and join the circle and giggle and laugh with her friends.

It fills me with joy to see her inviting friends over to play. She doesn't go to their houses yet, she is still too worried about her allergies and i'm just fine with that because, honestly? I worry too.

I have always worried about her. Knowing that a small mistake, an accidental ingestion of some nut or another, and she could be taken from me. Forever.

This has been a year for me to gain confidence too. Confidence in other parents, in our school, our community - that they care about her too. That she can be safe without my ever-present watching. That her and i can be separate. She's taking all of it with incredible grace.

She is awesome. She is my Eliza and i love her.

The new routine for parker, eliza and i involves a little play on the playground after kindergarten and then we head home for lunch.

Usually, they eat and i sit and stare blankly at the wall, or do some bloglines reading.

Today, i was watching dora *shudder* with parker and eliza was on the computer. She spun around on the chair, looked at me, and said:

"mommy i love you."

It was a day and what a day it was.

Last night going through my old photos i was struck by that old cliche of how time just sneaks by you. The days are so long, but the years so fast. Three kids in school. How the hell did this happen to me?

Eliza was fine, great. Excited and ready. Full of anticipation. When i asked her about the best part she said;

"I'm excited to learn new things."

Really. It was a perfect day.

We spent the afternoon at the lake enjoying the last few hot, hot days before fall comes. Playing with friends. Balancing on logs. Building (and wrecking) sandcastles.

Dinner of tacos, everybody's favourite, and toasts of high points of the day, and the best parts of summer, and the most exciting thing about school starting.

Tomorrow morning eliza starts kindergarten.

I have spent most of this long weekend at the school preparing emergency notices, laminating pictures of her, scrubbing every surface with bleach. Making sure that the school is safe for my little girl.

All i can tell you is that life-threatening allergies suck. They suck the life out of you. Worrying every moment. Holding your baby close. Sniffing the breath and food of every child around you to make sure that they are not going to kill your child. Your baby.

We have lived with these allergies for four years. But, i have never left eliza's side. Never a playdate or a party that i wasn't there. To make sure. And now she is leaving me.

As i've said before shane has been recording songs at home. The kids have watched with a keen interest and have spent many of our quieter summer days forming a band.

In singing class* at school they learned the apology song by The Decemberists. Since then every single time we are in the car we have to listen to it and we ALL sing it at the top of our lungs. We are the popular choice for carpools.

So, with Toby on bass and electric guitar, parker on vocals and eliza on acoustic guitar they have been rehearsing. Parker mostly sings the ABC song, but it has been a highlight of the summer so far for me. While i am away next week shane has promised me that they will record it and i will definitely post it for all of you upon my return.

* I made a CD for the teacher with that song on it and he liked it so much he taught it to the kids.

** My camera is still wonky. I was able to get a couple photos off it, but i'm going to go get a new memory card tomorrow and hopefully that will work.

Five years ago today eliza was born via emergency c-section five weeks early.

I woke up in the morning and felt a little funky, nothing specific. Just not right. I waited a few hours and decided to go to the hospital because when i had toby i didn't really think i was in labour and went to the hospital to be told i was 7 cm dilated.

At the hospital they did a twenty minute strip that showed no contractions and the nurse went off to look for a doctor to discharge me. While she was gone i watched the heart rate go up to 220 BPM. When the doctor came back twenty minutes later i asked her about it and panic set in. There was calls over the PA for any OB and anesthesiologist available. Eliza was born seven minutes later.

I had a hidden placental abruption because her head was already engaged in the birth canal. She spent seven days in the NICU. Since then it's been wonderful and beautiful. I am thankful every day for being paranoid and going to the hospital when i wasn't sure. They said she would have been dead by that night had i not gone in.

Happy birthday Eliza, i love you with everything i've got.

Today is victoria day. A day of lazing around and may showers and, obviously, a trip to victoria to see a kid flick.

Eliza's birthday is next week and we had her party this weekend. We invited five families over for a barbecue and wrestle in the sandbox. That would be twelve adults and sixteen kids. Brave me.

Eliza had a wonderful time. Being the centre of attention is difficult for her, but she got the hang of it and by the time everybody left at 10pm she was leading the pack in a moonlight fairie hunt.

Yesterday we (the four kids and i) spent the day in victoria visiting the pediatric allergist for eliza. I don't talk much about her peanut/treenut allergy because i know that it's one of those tough things for people. I know that it's hard when you get a note home from school asking for a nut-free classroom and you have a fussy child who only likes to eat PB&J. Believe me i know. It was tough for us. Obviously for me shelling out $8 for a teeny tiny jar of pea-butter peanut butter is worth every penny. I get that for those without an allergy in their family this IS a big deal in these days of tight wallets and huge grocery bills. We have learned to switch it up a little with cheese sandwiches, turkey pepperoni - all sorts of things that are not those terribly awful lunch in a box convenience food things.

Except, of course, if my child dies after your kindergartner eats PB&J for snack and then gums some toy and my child touches it with her hands and then picks her nose. Except for then. Then, maybe, the nut free classroom makes sense. She has a right to go to school, doesn't she?

So, you see, i can't keep my mouth shut once i start. So, i just don't start. It's a good thing i'm president of that damn school she's going to next year.

Anyway, we were in victoria for the day. It was nice. We drove around our old neighbourhood and all the houses we lived in, one child born in each. I would stop and tell them about the house they were born in and why we loved it. Then we went to our park, normal park we called it.

Every single day, rain, snow, sun, i would bundle one, two and eventually three kids up to go to that park. For six years, from 2:00 until dinnertime, everybody knew where i would be. And yesterday? I missed it so much. I sat playing with parker in the sandbox and was flooded with memories of pushing tristan in the baby swing, building endless sand castles, watching her ride around and around the play area first on a tricycle, then a two-wheeler with training wheels, then just a two wheeler with toby chasing behind on his motorized truck while i pushed eliza in the baby swing, and eventually, right before we moved away, hobbling in to show off parker while my other three roared around with their friends collecting flowers and cleverly hidden treasures.

Once in my life i had a circle of friends who shared in all the ups and downs of raising children and being married and finding jobs, losing loves, moving on - all the adult things.

When i met them i had just one child. I was righteous in the way new mothers can be, certain that i was the only one practicing this thing called attachment parenting. Certain that i was still cooler than everyone else, but so lonely. I happened upon them at the park that i walked through on my way to the mall to get a starbucks. Instantly, they pulled me into their circle. What a wonderful thing. I remember their children turning two and i also remember them turning six. The births of siblings. The extension of the park family.

And then we moved away. And i had every intention of keeping in touch. But distance really does become a barrier. And i change. And they change.

But i still miss them and the missed opportunity of watching their children grow.

Surprisingly, this is a first for me. Shane took the kids to the park on sunday so that i could clean the house and eliza came home with the precursor to this lovely shiner. Apparently, (and why does this always happen with the dads?) she fell off the top of the slide, toppled head first (cheek first) into the spiral part of the slide.

But, as kids tend to be, she's a tough little monkey.

Why can't my kids be normal. Why for the sake of my sanity do they need to be attached to me ALL the time? Why, oh why can i never be alone?

In september eliza started a ballet class. She loved it so much that we signed her up for the whole year and went and got the special outfit and the cute little slippers. And she leaped and twirled and danced and glowed. For awhile.

And then? She saw me drive away one day while she was in class. Big mistake. From then on it all went downhill. Each week i promised her i would not leave. I would stand right outside the doors so that she could see me through the window. I would entertain parker with cars and trucks at my feet while giving her reassuring glances through the window. Soon even that wasn't close enough. I had to come inside and sit and watch which is frowned upon by the teachers. So, parker and i would sit and watch and yawn and try to be quiet. If we made a move towards the door eliza would break down in tears.

Now, as long as all this happened according to her wishes she would still have fun and dance and twirl and be filled with joyous leaps.

This week she wouldn't go. Would not go. I am too tired to keep forcing these things. No preschool here in our house. All kids all the time until kindergarten.

The thing is if i let her quit i know i'm saying that it's okay to give up on things that scare you a little or are a challenge. It's okay to not try to face your fears. And she's so shy. So painfully shy.

On the other hand if i make her go we will all be miserable and i will be angry and probably not phrase my words properly when i talk to her.

Conundrums.