don't grow up

I've been suffering today from some intense fear and sorrow about my children growing older, and, as they do so, growing away from me. C is already very self-sufficient in a lot of ways, and I think he has looked at least as much to A for emotional support as he has to me ever since E was born and I became much less emotionally and even physically available to him. Thus, I'm most apprehensive about E being less dependent on me as he makes his way through ages 4 and 5. I think this was mostly brought on by a visit from A's sister and brother-in-law and their 3 children over the past weekend. They have twin 4 year-olds and a 13 month-old, and I was struck during their visit by how quickly M's infancy had passed; she was walking on her own and obviously fiercely desired as much independence as possible at that age (which is to say, not really all that much, but still...). J & P have planned a vasectomy and, thus, a definitive end to childbearing in their nuclear family which made me, in spite of having the infancy of my third child still ahead of me, prematurely wistful about the babylessness of the future. This is all completely ridiculous in the face of the fact that I find actually parenting infants to be extremely stressful and not the most fun to be had as a mom. However, I do like the part when they become independent enough to sleep through the night on their own, but are still needy enough to want to come snuggle in my bed early in the morning when they wake up. When we went to the zoo today, I found myself hugging and nuzzling my head against E fairly compulsively and wondering how long I would have before that kind of physical intimacy will become impossible between us. I hope that the end of that is not precipitated by the birth of little D. I want E to occasionally have a jones to tug on my hair or his own hair to soothe himself for a long time to come.