7th Birthday

It is January 8th - the quiet rainy eve of your seventh birthday. You are curled tightly in a ball with your pillow over your head, and your blankets on the floor given generously to your stuffed animals as you shiver against the cold winter night. You are wearing one sock - a polka-dotted toe sock given to you by your beloved cousin Kaylen. Your room hums with activity even while you sleep - mostly because you move a lot in your sleep. Ponies line the windowsill along with a small bubble-filled tupperware bowl where you must have shampooed their hair after your bath. Pens, pencils, crayons, markers, stickers, and little notebooks are strewn variously throughout the room each marking the exact spot of your inspiration. Books, small readers, and catalogs peek from beneath your pillow. I reluctantly pull them from your bed smiling because I’m pleased that you’re turning into a voracious bookworm. I cringe a bit when I see that you dog-ear your pages and write through the margins.



I can hardly believe it’s been seven years. I remember vividly the night before you were born. You were two whole weeks overdue, and finally my water broke. We were literally in the middle of painting your bedroom adding a dark pink stripe to your light pink walls, and I insisted on finishing before we left for the hospital. Little did I know that stubbornness could be passed through the umbilical cord, and taking on large projects at the last minute would become a way of life for us. I love that your ideas are always big. I love that your imagination is limited only by your vocabulary, and even then you make up words. If something is uncomfortable or rubbing you the wrong way - it’s friggly. If something doesn’t match, but you still think it is cute enough to wear it’s taxi (as in borderline tacky). 



Every morning when you wake up and get ready for the day I see you stretching more comfortably into your personality. You used to be so offended when people called you bossy, and now you mostly laugh and shrug it off. It’s a joy to watch you grow every day. I feel that sometimes you must see me as an itch on your side constantly irritating you to address this side or that. God has done amazing things in your life the last four years. You won’t even remember, but there was a time you had very little concern for other people’s feelings and refused to say sorry. Now you’re unfailingly compassionate and apologize without prompting. I was so proud to see you recognized this school year for your compassion and hospitality towards others. Through you God has reminded me of the best parts of myself I have hidden away. 



Most days I cannot believe I am so blessed to be your momma.

You always, without exception, make me proud. 



Your warmth makes the sun seem a cold autumn breeze.

Your energy makes the pink bunny look like a middle-aged man with a bad knee.

Your curls have more bounce than an Olympic trampoline.

Your hugs are more precious than jewels.
Your love is pure and sweet.

You fill my heart with gladness. 


You are my first baby. 

I love you.
Happy 7th Birthday Sofie.

1 comment

Feebs said...

of course you know I have tears streaming down my face. tears at reading your words about your daughter and knowing that you came from me. I am so lucky to have both of you in my life, my two very own little honey bunny's :)