Seven

It is hard to believe that seven years ago we were in the midst of another series of Winter Olympics. As I labored with you I complained to Bob, "I've already seen this figure skating couple!" To which he replied, "Uh yeah hon, it's 3 o'clock in the morning. They are repeating things now." Right. We had been at the hospital since seven a.m. for your induction. You clearly did not feel like making your entrance into this world even though you were already two weeks late. Today you are seven and you still hate getting ready in the morning, putting on anything that isn't "pajammies" and heading out the door. You much prefer to while away the hours bare foot and comfy with copious amounts of blankets, pillows and stuffed friends surrounding you.

I know it is so cliched to say that I cannot believe you are already seven. In some ways and on some days it feels like it has taken us centuries to get here. When I see you spell your name and your sister's on paper or watch you teach her the alphabets, feed the dog by yourself or race down a hill on your scooter I just can't believe you are already this big. We never thought you would have much hair and now the curly mass can barely be contained on most days. You are shy and also quite outspoken or as your teacher says you, "quietly stand your ground." You are independent, bold, a risk taker and a lover of adventure in ways I never was as a child. I would have wanted to be your friend because you are so daring. Now I am proud to be your mother. In seven years you have become generous, loving, kind and sweet with a busy sense of purpose and stubborness that can only be attributed to having two stubborn parents. You are just learning to take the easy way versus the hard way. We love you despite all the tantrums and screamfests. We love you because of them too.

Happy Seventh Birthday Sherry! We couldn't ask for a better daughter. We love every little bit of you today and always.