Seven.

Tonight is Molly's last night as a seven year old.  I cannot believe that as of tomorrow I will be the mommy of an 8 year old child.

Eight.  

I remember when I was 8.  It doesn't seem like it was that long ago.

Tonight as I was tucking her in for bed, we participated in the "night before your birthday" ritual I borrowed from my friend, Nancy.  I looked long at her face and told her I was looking at her for the last time as a seven year old.  Usually it's a battle of who will not crack a smile first--but tonight Molly started crying.

I don't know where she gets it from. 

Wink. 

But as we talked, she shared that seven was a really good year for her and she wasn't ready to leave it behind.  

It was the year she:

• was surprised with a trip to Disney World
• lost her first tooth--and then three more
• went to Myrtle Beach
• went to the fair
• got a pair of Twinkle Toes
• got an X-box/Kinect
• read her first Harry Potter books 
• found out the truth about the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny
• still believes that Santa is alive and well ("because mom and dad would NEVER spend that kind of money on my presents")
• changed schools and met new good friends
• AND found out she was moving to the camp

Eight years passes faster than you realize.  I miss those early days with my precious baby, but I'm looking forward to what's ahead.  

Happy Birthday Mo! 

xoxxo