Seven!

Happy 7th birthday, Margaret Julia. 

Seven. Whoa. 

I know, I know. There are people reading this who's children have celebrated their 17th birthday. Or 27th. Or 37th (hi, mom!) But today my girl turns seven. And that's huge for me.

As I watched her working on homework one night last week, chewing on her pencil eraser (she totally gets that from me) I was kind of overcome with the realization that she is growing into a GIRL. I mean, duh... I always knew she was a girl... but all of a sudden she's not a toddler, not a preschooler, not even a kindergartener... she is this... PERSON. This little lady with ideas and stories and dreams. She can read chapter books. She can make her own bed. She answers the phone on her own. She likes to have "alone time" in her bedroom to write in her journal. When did this happen? 

I always, always, always hoped and dreamed about being a mommy. I have been blessed... times three. In all my dreams, however, I was holding a baby or pushing a toddler on a swing set, or snuggling a teeny one in a rocking chair. I never really thought past that part... yet, here it is, staring me in the face. Right now we're in that super spot where Barbies and Disney movies are still fun. She still wants mom to chaperone her field trips. And she can be easily persuaded into wearing the clothes I so lovingly choose for her, even when she has other ideas. Soon enough we'll be entering the world of makeup, and bras, and boy bands, and girl drama.... and while that scares me something fierce, I can't imagine a better kid to take this crazy journey with. 

I made you, but you made me a mom. Happy 7th birthday, Mags. I love you with every part of my heart!