You are seven now. Your birthday was just six days ago. It feels like just yesterday that you were born. I struggle with finding the balance between giving you independence and keeping you sheltered. Seven looks like sending my sweet girl to a lock in party at her dance studio until 9:30 p.m. You are welcome for letting you stay up way past your bedtime on your birthday night. Thank you sweetie for letting me know gently when you are confident enough to spread your wings. This mama wants to keep her big girl little for just a bit more. My tendency is to swoop in and hover.
You value your quiet time to read and create, and you have shown so much maturity in letting us know that you need that time to decompress. Your kindness and empathy know no bounds. Your creativity blossoms forth in your science experiments, your reading, your artwork, and your dancing. You lose yourself in books just like me. Sometimes I call you Jennifer because some of your personality traits remind me so much of myself. It is with love that I do that. We both need to decompress at the end of the night by recapping our entire day. I feel like you sometimes save up all your words for the end of the night. I treasure that time to really connect and listen to your hopes, your dreams, and your fears.
Munch, you made Daddy and I parents. Thank you for showing us unconditional love and a boundless capacity for forgiveness. As the oldest child, you are our guinea pig. We make lots of mistakes, and we continue to learn how to be the best mom and dad for you. Happy belated birthday!