I’ve lived by the sea since pregnant with our firstborn, and remember in crisp detail each first steps each little lady took on sand, each first rock each little lady tossed into salty seas.
Honestly, it doesn’t feel like much time has sailed by since our almost-seven-year-old wore diapers.
She sings to pop radio favorites, still sleeps with her baby blankie and a score of dolls and stuffed friends.
She says words like crush, marry and kiss in sentences about recess and best friends while my husband and I instantly lose our appetites.
In this week’s Today’s Mama piece entitled I Found Love in her Backpack I wrote:
With a daughter buoyant on age seven’s cusp, my heart holds her in a sling still, my eyes blink to behold her tall, lean, beautiful. I’ll never get over how amazing it is to have a whimsical little girl version of my husband.
Sometimes when I’m braiding her long hair, laughing at her jokes about a pirate’s favorite letter in the alphabetRRRRRR it is like we’re college roommates, scheeming over lattes, planning art projects.
This morning amid oatmeal’s steamy rush, I came across a crayon love note while digging in her backpack.
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