A bonnet for the babe

 

I'm a real hat mama. I insist that my wee ones wear hats nearly all the time during the first year of life -- and a lot of the time thereafter. ;) A lot of people ask me about this -- it's less and less common, it seems, to keep babies in hats. I have a lot of reasons for it -- to protect my (bald!) babies' delicate skin, to help keep their temperature regulated, because it's an old tradition (and I'm nothing if not into old tradtions!). But perhaps the biggest reason for me? They are just so very cute!

I made this bonnet for Fiona last week. The pattern is Amy Karol's bonnet pattern (available here, click "shop"). I love this pattern -- this is the second time I've made it, and I'd like to make it again. (The first one I made was for a friend of Elisabeth's about a year ago -- here.) The pattern is so simple, and is designed in a way that you can hardly help but have it turn out well. It's that easy!

This bonnet is a little bit too big for Fiona -- my babies have all had fairly small heads. Next time, I will probably alter the back of the pattern to be a bit narrower.

The fabric I used is Park Slope by Erin McMorris, which, sadly, is not being printed anymore and is getting harder to find. The ribbon is some vintage acetate ribbon from my stash, which I had to hem because it was so very, very ravelly!

Because the fabric is directional, but the pattern was written to be cut as a single piece, I ended up cutting two pieces and seaming them together at the crown. I wish that I had done it so that those tiny edges of birds didn't show, but otherwise, I like the way it turned out.

Really, the bonnet is so cute that I can't resist it.

Even more irresistable is the baby cuteness in the bonnet!

Here's to babies in hats, and a summer of more bonnets to come.

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Thank you all so much for your encouragement about my upcoming shop! I'm excited to get everything finished and get the shop up! I'm still aiming for next week.

The bag I wanted to keep and some news

I made this bag for a friend back at the end of March (here's another glimpse of it), and I was so in love with it that I only gave it away reluctantly. So I thought I'd make myself another one like it.

And then I thought, while I'm making bags, maybe I can make a stack of them and open an Etsy shop!

I've been thinking about doing a shop for a long, long time, and the time feels right this summer. So, I've been spending some time in my finally organized (but not "finished") studio space over the past few days (I'll be sure to give a tour when things are all set up in there), cutting and beginning to sew up quite a few of these tote bags.

I'll announce here when I'm more sure of the opening date for the shop, but my goal is to have it all ready by Tuesday, July 14. Anyway, I have a lot more ideas up my sleeve for the shop, so I hope to have a few updates over the next few months. I'm excited, and nervous, to test the waters here! Hopefully some of you will find something you like!

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PS: I hope those of you celebrating the 4th of July this weekend have a safe and fun holiday!

Speeding

Last week I got a speeding ticket for driving 10 miles an hour over the posted speed limit. Beyond being vexed about the fine and disappointed in myself both for speeding and being caught, it has made me consider some things.

Mostly, the concept of speeding itself. Speeding while driving -- and speeding through life. Like so many people, I have a tendency to rush, and to feel rushed. At the pool after swimming lessons, I feel a vague pressure to get everyone dry and dressed and out to the car in a hurry. While sewing or knitting, I find myself fixating on the finished object rather than the process of its creation. I'll hurry through a job, like pulling weeds in the garden, just to get it over with, rather than stopping to really experience the job with all of my senses.

I've written a little bit about this in the past, and it's something I've been aware of, thinking about, and working on for a number of years. It's easy for me to feel like I haven't made much progress, but when I stop to think about it, I realize that I have. I've made a lot of small changes. The scenarios I listed above do happen, but not as frequently as they might have two or three years ago. I have learned to ask myself "What's the rush?" "What do I have to do that is more important than what I'm doing right now?" and "Do I really have somewhere better to be?" Often the answer to these questions is, surprisingly and honestly, Nothing. It turns out that there really is nowhere better to be, no reason to rush from here to there, to hurry through my life.

What is the rush? If I hurry through today, and I race through tomorrow, then I'm really only speeding toward the end of my life. That could come when I'm 92, or 50, or tomorrow. But I don't want the measure of my life, when it finally has ended, to have been one that was sped through. I want it to be one that was actually lived.

So, I can afford an extra 25 minutes to dawdle at the pool. I can learn to appreciate the fact that my current knitting project takes 2000 stitches to yield one inch of work, and the quality of my sewing when I take my time. I can do one thing at a time, and do those things well and with great love. I can afford myself the time to live this life.

So Many Reasons to Love Pink

Pink is my favorite color. I really love a lot of colors, and I love the way colors play with one another. But I am devoted to pink. And there have been such a lot of good reasons to love pink around here over the last few weeks.

Peonies in our yard! (Now faded, but I'm still reveling in their memory.)

This amazing sweater gifted to us by Kyrie. If you're one of the more than 400 people who have viewed it (or the more than 80 who have faved it!) over on her Ravelry page, or if you've been following along at near:far almost from the beginning, you'll certainly recognize it. She knitted it during her pregnancy for her own baby, and I loved it so much that she sent it to me. I am so, so grateful for this gift for so many reasons.

Roses from our garden.

Washcloths. I've knitted four of these (in pink) recently and love them for wiping little hands and faces.

And most especially, this wee pink girl.

Seasons Round

Our family has had a nature table (or "seasonal table", as we call it) in our home -- in some form or other -- since Elisabeth was a baby. Although I've never quite accomplished the seasonal tableaux that some more ambitious people have, its presence, however great or small, has been so important to us. I like to inspire a feeling of reverence in our home, and to keep a physical reminder of the rhythm of the year: the seasons, the festivals we celebrate.

However, these days, I'd have to say that its presence has begun to inspire more of a feeling of "ugh" and less of a feeling of "ahh". It's dusty. I haven't been changing it out with much frequency. I'm bored with the same few objects in rotation all the time.

So, when Kyrie announced this week that she would be organizing a nature table exchange (the Seasons Round Exchange), I knew that the remedy for our sad little seasonal table was in sight! I am so excited to participate in the swap (sign-ups begin July 1 -- all the details here), and I hope that many of you will join in, as well!

You needn't already have a nature table in your home to participate -- this could be the beginning of a new tradition in your family! And you needn't have children in your home to join, either. Who couldn't use a little bit more inspiration, reverence, and reminders of the beauty of the natural world in their life? Edited to add: You don't even need your own blog to participate! Just an email address. The Seasons Round blog has a lot of wonderful links in its sidebar -- so much inspiration and information on nature tables. I think it's going to be my go-to resource for ideas.

I'm really excited about the new inspiration that participating in the exchange will no doubt bring to all the participants. I already have some ideas swirling in my head. I'm even feeling inspired to do a bit more for our seasonal table in the meantime. I hope you'll join me!

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PS: I think I have officially become the worst blogger in the neighborhood. I don't know why I feel compelled to even draw attention to that fact, or to apologize for it, but I guess it's just because I feel a little embarrassed about it. I literally have SEVEN posts begun, and saved as drafts, and I just haven't gotten them published. Anyway, thank you for continuing to visit and leave comments here. Also, I'm still at near:far every Tuesday and Friday, so you can check in there if you're missing me in this space!

Funny but true, and what's been going on

First the "funny but true", and then the "what's been going on":

Last night I dreamt that I was taking some sort of class with a priest. I got the feeling that it was a cello lesson of some kind. But I was paying for the class with a little bit of cash and a lot of very nice yarn! I remember thinking that there was no way I'd be able to keep it up with the yarn because it was too expensive.

Then when I woke up, I realized that the priest was actually Jared Flood.

The priest of knitting.

I finally cast on my February Lady this week after a lot of hemming and hawing about what yarn to use, and lots of yarn lusting on Jared's Ravelry page. (By the way, I'm on Ravelry and I think it's about the best thing in the universe. You ravelers can find me under the user name "uncommongrace".) Anyway, I think that explains my dream, which I'm definitely filing under "funny but true".

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And as to what's been going on, well, it seems that there have been lots of things happening around here, and I have about seven posts waiting in the wings, but I haven't had (or wanted to have, honestly) much computer time lately. I've been wanting to focus on finding our footing in our new summer rhythm, and all that it is:

::swimming lessons

::the new bike-riding prowess of a certain seven-year-old girl (and, oh my goodness, the tears that I cried tonight when I realized that we'd somehow deleted 30 photos from the day she learned to ride!)

::new knitting projects

::dreams of sewing

::rainy days

::dissertation widowhood

::a baby shower and blessingway to be planned for my sister (and the arrival of my first baby niece this fall!)

::some projects around the house (like, um, finally unpacking -- remember, my long, long, long pregnancy followed right on the heels of our move last year)

::peonies!

::birthday parties

::a bit of gardening

::several new cello students

::and, wow, just basking in the still-new babyness that's happening around here.

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So, it's been good. Exhausting, but good. I still have so much to learn. So much! But I am -- we are -- finding the way.

(And thank you to all who have written to check in during my two weeks of silence here in this space. I am constantly both uplifted and humbled by this community. Really and truly.)

Fast and not-too-dirty

My time for sewing lately is both infrequent and short, so when I do have a few minutes that I can spend at the machine, I want quick, satisfying projects so that I can feel like I've accomplished something tangible with that time.

Elisabeth has lately stopped liking snug pajama pants, and though she has several pairs of loose flannel pajama pants that I've made her, she and I both thought she needed something lighter and more summery.

I'd had this lightweight double knit from Superbuzzy sitting around for almost two years (eek! I can't believe that, but it's true!). I bought it with pajama pants in mind in the first place, and I'm glad this project finally made it to the top of the pile!

I just used my usual "pattern" -- which was originally a tracing of some size 4 store-bought pajamas, and I've just been cutting them a bit bigger as needed over the last few years, tweaking it so that the fit is just what my girl wants.

Three seams, a casing & elastic waist, and we're done. 25 minutes start-to-finish, I believe. (Now, I'll admit, when I first heard of people making pants for kids in 30 minutes, and then tried it myself, it took me much longer. But the more I make, the quicker it gets. So if you've never made them, and your first pair ends up taking you 90 minutes like mine did, have a steadfast heart. Sewing gets easier, I promise! Though that's another post altogether, I think....)

I didn't even finish the hems -- I'd run out of time -- but I don't think it even matters on these light, casual, summery pajama pants with princess castles on them.

So perfect for my little princess.

It's all about the pants

I'm woefully behind with sharing some of my more recent projects. I do have two more pairs of Picky Pants to share, and I'm sure I'll use this pattern many more times.

I knit this yellow pair at the end of March. My mom bought the yarn, Cascade 220 Superwash, for me. Superwash yarn isn't the best for a diaper cover because you do want a diaper cover to felt together just a wee bit, but they do make some very cute pants.

I loved the garter hem, and will probably use it again.

This second pair was begun at the beginning of April, and I intended it for Fiona's Easter basket. There was also going to be a doll sweater from the same yarn for Elisabeth's basket. However, Elisabeth walked in on me knitting the pants one night (spoiling the surprise), so I just set them aside. (I was behind, anyway.)

I finally finished the pants a couple of weeks ago, though the doll sweater is still awaiting some seaming.

These are also Malabrigo worsted. I absolutely love this yarn and colorway ("floral"). I call this color combination -- pink-orange-yellow -- the "Shelley colors" after sweet Shelley of waldorf mama. The colors just remind me of her.

Anyway, these pants are my favorite yet.

Although, these photos of Fiona in the green longie -- when she was three days old -- are my favorite:

This post surely holds the record for number of photos of diaper covers. But how can this mama choose only two or three favorites? I can't. And there are even more over at flickr. ;)

Her new skirt

Thank you all so very much for your kind words on yesterday's post. On those days, when it seems much easier to just throw in the towel, it can be so reassuring to know that other mamas on this journey toward conscious parenting sometimes feel the same way. xo

So, you knew I'd have to share more pictures of the skirt from yesterday, didn't you? You might call it the "bad day skirt". Well, I'm hoping that she doesn't call it that.

It's simply two widths of fabric (from Denyse Schmidt's Flea Market Fancy line, which I've been hanging on to for about 2.5 years), each cut to 17" in length (she's getting so tall that I think I'll make it 20" next time). I have a serger, so I just serged the sides together and did a rolled hem (using this stuff, which makes rolled hems look so nice). Then I made a simple elastic casing for the waist, and ta-da! A new skirt in about 20 minutes.

We already saw one action shot yesterday, but what post about a spinny skirt would be complete without another?

 
bike shorts underneath make the spinning worry-free

These are so easy, and my girl is so satisfied with the results, that I'm hoping to crank out a few more for her for the summer. They're about perfect for the amount of sewing time I have these days, too!

Giving up~Giving in~Just Giving

Yesterday was one of those days. You know the kind. The ones where it feels as though the baby hasn't slept for more than 20 minutes at a time in a week, where the three-year-old falls through the cracks of the day, leaving me wondering if I even know him, where the seven-year-old and I find ourselves butting heads until it spirals into a full-blown stand-off. Those days where the choices are to either allow yourself to fall into the abyss of grumpiness, self-pity, and bad choices, or to pull yourself up with the sheer strength of your will and turn things around. And you choose the former.

Yeah, one of those days.

And then, family and love work their magic. 

The baby charms you with a smile and a giggle. The three-year-old introduces you to the Butterfly-Pirate. You offer to collaborate on a new skirt for the seven-year-old, and her admiration of its spinniness tells you that you're forgiven.

And today is always a new day.

Awakening to Spring

Here's a branch of snowy May, a branch the fairies gave me.

-English May song

Right now, I'm loving the opportunity to experience this springtime as though it were my first. Living in our house, with its yard and gardens, has opened my senses to spring in so many new ways.

So many things to be thankful for this lovely May:

::Gifts of posies from my children almost every day

::The slow warmth of the spring sun on my back and face

::Fragrant wafts from our neighbor's spicy-sweet linden tree

::The pleasure of having spent a morning working in the yard

What about you? What are you enjoying and feeling thankful for this mid-May?

Mama's Day

This poem has been shared by many on Mother's Day, but it's too good not to share, I think. And having just given birth to my own wee girl "one morning just before spring" makes it feel all the more relevant to me right now.

How the days went
While you were blooming within me
I remember each upon each--
The swelling changed planes of my body--
And how you first fluttered, then jumped
And I thought it was my heart.

How the days wound down
And the turning of winter
I recall, with you growing heavy
Against the wind. I thought
Now her hands
Are formed, and her hair
Has started to curl
Now her teeth are done
Now she sneezes.
Then the seed opened.
I bore you one morning just before spring--
My head rang like a fiery piston
My legs were towers between which
A new world was passing.

From then
I can only distinguish
One thread within running hours
You...flowing through selves
Toward you.

~Audre Lord

Happy Mother's Day to all you mamas. However you spend it, may you know you're blessed -- and loved. And may we all be both fierce and tender as we do this work, familiar and yet always new, of raising our children up.

PS: And for a totally different look at motherhood, check this out. It made me laugh until I cried -- and cry until I laughed.

On believing

We are big on believing around here. In the summertime, we are visited by fairies who leave behind tiny gifts from the natural world, magical notes with curly handwriting, and the most sparkling fairy dust you could imagine. When a tooth is lost, the Tooth Fairy arrives, bringing (without fail) two quarters, a note detailing the changes she sees in the child since the last time she visited, and a small gift. Each December, the visits of St. Nicholas and Santa Claus (who remain two distinct people in our minds) are anticipated with great glee. For five years, and through two moves, our home has been host to a brownie: a little "house elf" who occasionally plays mischievous tricks on us (which explains many missing socks, pencils, doll clothes, and keys...), but also shows us great generosity and kindness (surprises, serendipitous events, tiny gifts on a nightstand in the morning, a magically tidied room while we sleep, and even aid with the contents of our advent garland have all been attributed to him). 

My list of magical visitors and events could go on. These "beings" have become very alive to all of us, even to my husband and me. They have become a natural part of the rhythm of our family, not a game we enact or a trick we play on our children.

This is why it grieves me deeply to see that a tiny bit of belief is slipping away from my oldest child. I can see it in the way she has come to mention the Brownie less often, the way she commented recently about the Christmas pajamas that I make (rather than that the Brownie makes), the tone in her voice as she observed the absent muddy rabbit tracks on Easter morning this year.

Part of this has to do with a bit of carelessness on the part of my husband and me. During my pregnancy, though there was much talk about the Brownie, and many reminders to leave him some breakfast so he'd remember to offer us some small kindness, I rarely summoned the energy to "help him show his presence" again. This past Easter was one of the worst on record in our home with regard to care and secrecy. I actually had to abandon an Easter gift from each of the children's baskets after Elisabeth saw me working on them. And of course, there were the omitted footprints.

But part of it, I know, has to do with the fact that she is getting older. It seems that she is bigger every single day, and in some ways, it's even more apparent with her than it is with my tiny baby. I'm realizing more each day how short my time with my children really is -- how soon they will be all grown up.

And though she hasn't actually questioned the existence of our magical visitors, I know that questions are beginning to grow within her. They're questions I'm not yet sure I'm ready, or know how, to answer.

I was raised in a home full of tradition and beauty and celebration, but absent of belief in the extraordinary. I knew from my earliest childhood that the gifts in my stocking on Christmas morning were from my parents, not Santa Claus. I knew, as deeply and clearly as I knew that my hair was red, that there were no fairies in my backyard helping things to grow.

I understand and respect my parents' reasons for raising us in the way that they did, and yet I've chosen to do things a bit differently in my own home. I know, when my children receive a note from the fairies on Midsummer, that it was penned by me, and that the fairy dust is superfine glitter. But I also know that there is so much that is incomprehensible in the world, and that belief in fairies, Santa Claus, or a brownie are simple ways of expressing and attempting to comprehend all of this. As fumbling as my ways of sharing this with my children sometimes are, they have become a priceless element of my parenting journey and our family life.

I have a friend whose 10-year-old was angry and hurt when he discovered the "truth" about Santa Claus. I don't want my daughter to feel angry when she learns that all of these things that have been part of our lives for so long are very different from what has been communicated to her. And yet, I don't know how to prevent her disappointment and potential anger.

I'm learning to understand this as a metaphor for anything we do with our children, whether with much forethought or by happy accident. It turns out that parenting really is a road. There isn't any way to have a "method" all planned out from day one. There isn't a way to account for every variable, or to have a script for every difficult moment. There isn't a way to predict the outcome -- to see the end of this road.

But I have to see this as a gift. A gift of moments in time. Seeing klieg lights in the sky on a December night, and spontaneously "realizing" that it must be Santa's reindeer practicing for their flight on Christmas Eve. Examining a dewy note amidst a dusting of glitter, and being just as surprised as my children about how it all looks in the light of a warm June morning. Hearing my child say, "Tsk, that Brownie! He must have hidden my shoe!" instead of melting down into a tantrum of frustration over a missing article of clothing. These are gifts that my children and I have given to one another.

I hope these gifts will carry us as we continue down this road; as questions arise; as I try to meet them with grace.

For now, my seven-year-old still believes. She still holds these mysteries with wonder and reverence. I hope that, in some way, she always will.

Going a-Maying

This weekend, we spent one morning anonymously delivering May baskets to some of our friends and neighbors. We hadn't done it in a couple of years, so it was fun to rekindle the tradition this year. And it was especially nice to use flowers that actually grew in our own yard -- mostly tulips and grape hyacinths.

Years and years ago -- long before I ever had children (maybe even before I was married) -- I saw an idea in Martha Stewart to use small jars and cans for May baskets. They are so simple and so pretty, with the added benefit of being cheap and easy to put together. In fact, with cans and jars from the recycling, the ribbon from my stash, and the flowers from our garden, this year's May baskets required no purchases whatsoever.

And what a joy it was to share a little bit of springtime with our friends and neighbors.

Happy May Day!

The world's favorite season is spring.
All things seem possible in May.

-Edwin Way Teale

Wishing you a month full of possibility!

Tomato help?

This year will mark our first year to attempt any kind of gardening. My husband and I have been married for 10 years, and we've lived in apartments or condos for about 8.5 of those years. So, we are very excited.

We planted tomato, pepper, and cucumber seeds in late March and they've been in our large kitchen window since then. They seem to have germinated right on schedule (our seeds came from here, for those of you who are wondering), but now some of our tomato seedlings are wilting a little. Overwatering is the only thing I can think of that might be the culprit, but I have no experience.

Here are some pictures of what's been going on:

One or two of them have some splotchy discoloration on the leaves, like this:

What do you think? Input would be very greatly appreciated by these beginning gardeners!

Edited to add: This seems to be only happening to the original seed leaves, at least so far.

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By the way, thanks for your kind words about Fiona's baptism! For those of you who were wondering, the gown was neither handmade nor a family heirloom, as much as I wish it were. It was purchased new for Elisabeth (when she was baptized seven years ago) at a little boutique-y shop. I did like that both of my daughters were able to wear the same gown. So maybe it's on its way to becoming a family heirloom!

Celebrating

This weekend, we celebrated Fiona's baptism. It was a beautiful and simple celebration, with just our family present. And we are all still feeling so joyful, two days later.

My younger brother served as her godfather, and it was so special for us to come together in this way, and for me to see my big "little" brother assume this role in my wee one's life.

I have embroidered a stole for each of my children's baptisms, and I was determined for Fiona to have one, too. I lost track of time this time -- we've had a lot going on over the last couple of weeks -- so it was churned out mostly the day before. Some of the purple air-fading ink that I used still showed on the day of the baptism (this is the same kind I used with the last two, so I'm confident it will eventually fade), but otherwise I was happy and relieved that it was ready for her.

It was a beautiful moment in time.

Thank you

Thank you all for your responses to my last post. Your thoughts and words mean so very much to me. I'm glad that I have this place in which I can express myself so honestly, and be heard. And I'm touched that so many of you shared your own stories with me. As women and mothers, we need to be able to reach out to others, to tell our stories, to allow ourselves to be heard. So, thank you.

I'm doing fine really, most of the time. Every now and then there is a scary moment, but I have to remind myself often that one bad day doesn't mean that I've slipped back into depression. I think many of us can find ourselves guilty of feeling like if things aren't stellar all the time, then something must be wrong. But it is truly what we choose to do with very ordinary, dull days (not just spectacular, special ones) that makes us the strong and beautiful people that we all have the potential to be.

How I'm doing

Those of you who have been following along over at near:far have probably inferred that I've been facing some struggles over the last few weeks. While the purpose of this blog, and near:far, too (though more limited in scope), has always been to keep things positive and to help me maintain my focus on the beautiful things in my daily life, I also strongly believe that it's unhealthy for me to suffer privately, and that it doesn't help women in general for us as a society to be silent about the realities of baby blues and postpartum depression. So, the truth for me -- right now -- is that I have a mix of some good "normal" days, and some frightening "bad" days. Like all mothers, I sometimes feel irritable and insecure. And sometimes, on some days, those feelings seem to be magnified. And on those days, I feel very vulnerable, as though I'm teetering on the brink of depression. I haven't reached a scary low place the way I did when James was a baby, and I'm still hoping that through good self-care, support, and awareness, that depth of depression can be averted. But the truth is, I don't know. Even by doing everything "right", there is no guarantee.

So, I'm trying to remind myself:

*to go outside more (sunlight can really help with depression)

*to notice the tulips blooming right outside my door

*to ask for help when I need it

*to do things that I enjoy, that nurture me physically, and that nourish my soul

*to step back into my volunteer work with mothers in my community, work that has always been so gratifying

*to appreciate Fiona's beautiful chubbiness

*to find balance between seeking connection and giving space with Elisabeth and James when it's been a hard day and we're all struggling

*to do my best to remember to be fully present in the moment I'm in, and to be aware of and appreciative of the way my children are right now -- because time with them is so fleeting

*to be gentle with myself

*most of all, to take it one day at a time

I don't want this to become a depression blog. It's always been a place for me to go that's happy and uplifting. But I have always been frank in the past about my experiences with PPD, and I want to continue with that candor. I know that in some small way, my honesty has helped some of you who are reading right now. I have been touched so many times by an "out of the blue" email from another mother, saying that my words and the personal work I've done have been helpful and inspiring to her in her own journey. It is one of the things that makes keeping this blog so satisfying to me.

So I'll be sharing my progress here from time to time, while continuing to use this as a space to document small joys and accomplishments. Thank you all so much for your amazing and inspiring encouragement and generosity to me and my family, for continuing to add your own voices to this site in the form of your comments, and for your many loving emails. I appreciate you, and this community, so very much.

Seven years old!

 
{the magical moment}

 
{hyacinths gathered by the birthday girl}

 
{organizing some supplies in her new art caddy -- I love how her seven-year-old mind works}

We spent a lovely day celebrating our new seven-year-old today.

Seven feels like such a rite of passage to me. I remember being seven so well, and it was one of my favorite ages to be. I remember that feeling of newfound independence, confidence, that sense that the world was a huge, new opportunity.

 
{me at seven}

I'm in awe of the fact that my own child has reached this amazing age already. In some ways, she still seems quite little to me. But I'm seeing more and more the thoughtful, capable, graceful, strong-willed young lady that she is becoming. And I'm amazed, and just blown away by her, and the fact that we are in one another's lives.

Oh, I love you, my seven-year-old. And I hope seven is your best year yet!