But I can still win an Oscar, right?

Over the weekend I took Girlie to shop for a new bathing suit. She'll be starting swimming lessons soon and, of course, her suits from last year are all too small. To say she is particular about the way clothes fit is a huge understatement. Too loose, too tight, too scratchy, too whatever, and she isn't going to wear it. She hasn't always been this fussy about fit, but she is almost seven and right now it's her thing.

We loaded up the cart with pink polka dots and pink stripes and pink flowers and headed to the dressing room for the show. I assumed it was going to be a bit dramatic and briefly wondered if I could bring in some popcorn to munch on. No time for that though, we had to get through the ten or so options and keep moving.

Surprisingly, it wasn't so bad. As she put on each suit, she danced around in front of the three way mirror making faces and giggling herself breathless. As I watched her preen and strut in that unselfconscious little girl way, I glanced at myself in the mirror and saw that I looked a little tired.

And then it hit me. I am not the lead actress anymore. I am just Mom, the person who sits patiently in the dressing room handing over bathing suits. I am now officially in a supporting role. How the hell did that happen?