Maybe it's the pregnancy. Okay, probably it's the pregnancy. I am very emotional and sentimental these days. NOT a good state to be in for your oldest child's birthday.
On Monday, Abby turned 7. Since toddlerhood, it's seemed that Abby has been straining against time, racing to get older faster than the days will let her. If she had it her way she would skip all the single digit years and move straight to 10 or 11. If I had it my way...well.
Abby loves all the trappings of girlhood--Hannah Montana, purses, makeup, boys, High School Musical, Jonas. But she also loves drawing and painting, playing on the monkey bars and wrestling with her daddy. Thank goodness pop culture hasn't completely taken over. Still, sometimes it seems like there's no "little girl" left in her.
Then we'll be doing something, like sitting at McDonald's for her birthday lunch, and her daddy will ask her what flavor McFlurry she wants as a birthday treat. She'll answer "In Em Ins", which will remind me that she still mispronounces M&Ms the same way she has since she was 2, and somehow I don't feel so rushed any more. Happy Birthday, Baby Girl.
Here's a picture of Matt, Abby and me at her first birthday party. I know, we were all babies then.