Seven

My dumpling daughter turned seven.

Can we talk for a minute? Have any of you ever had a child turn seven? What is that? No one warned me that any babiness remaining in my child would be snatched up from one day to the next -- just like that. Gone. What is it with seven?

So we did have a bit of a shindig. On the hottest day in May.

My amazing SIL made these ice-cream-cone-cupcake deals I found on Pinterest.

(I'm not gonna lie. I don't remember what life was like before Pinterest.)

We all stood around her as she held her flaming waffle cone and sang an inexcusably Baroque version of Happy Birthday. She loved.


Also thanks to Pinterest, lawn Twister.

Best part: my nephew's not-quite-there splits. And the eye-popping reaction. (Us moms were in stitches.)

Having picked up some hula-hoops at the dollar store, I announced Hula-Hoop Olympics (impics...impics...impics...)

The boys were unenthralled. To say the least.

Until the last event, that is. It was some sort of a cross between darts and a horseshoes throw, but with a bag of rice. What is it with guys and aiming at stuff?

Happy seventh birthday to my lanky bundle of wonderful. I love you so.

Every year, around her birthday, I have a fun session to mark a new year. I'll post more on that just as soon as a take the time to edit a few!

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