Today Faith turns 7. She has been counting down for quite some time now. She counted through Emma’s birthday, which is exactly 20 days before hers. So, she just added 20 to whatever Emma’s countdown was. That’s math, right?
She is so eager to grow up. I want her to stay little. She’s the baby, you know.
She thought that with 7, she would be able to get rid of the car booster seat. We looked up the law the other day. You have to be 8. She wasn’t happy about that. She said she’s 18. I told her she was short for 18. I could see the wheels spinning as she tried for a comeback to that.
She’s seven. No longer six. Where does the time go? She’s growing in grace and in wisdom. Seven year old wisdom. Which for Faith really is more like eighteen. Can I bottle her up? My heart aches because she’s the last one, so far as we can tell. And she still hugs and snuggles and thinks that Daddy hung the moon. And she tries to kiss my neck. Which I don’t let her do. Usually. And then I act like she didn’t do it. She greets me with a joyous smile every morning. So happy to be awake and home with her family. Oh, how I treasure these days of small things.
‘Cause she’s short. Like a 7 year old ought to be.
Happy birthday, baby. I love you most!
**To clarify…the “most” part doesn’t refer to my love for her over her siblings. It’s just a little thing we say to each other. We try to out-love each other. And the little stinker always tries to get the last word.