Seven

There she stood at my bedside, the morning before her birthday, just as her brother had done.

"I'm so excited to be seven tomorrow!" Emily whispered.

"So, I suppose you're happy that seven is in the numbers?" I replied, remembering Oliver's dismay about turning five.

"Well, yes," she began, "but eight actually suits me better."

I laughed out loud and wondered how I'm going to feel about becoming forty this year. Seems there's a need to contemplate numbers in this family :)

When light dawned this morning, my newly-turned seven year-old girl bounded into my room once more, this time without whispering. She had found a loonie where she had laid her tooth under her pillow the night before and she was grinning ear to ear and hopping like a bunny. She slowed to a stop and became serious.
"But Mommy," my girl mourned, "It was my most helpfulest tooth."

"That's okay," I encouraged, "you'll have a new one to replace it in just a few weeks."

And out she bounded with more vigor than she had coming in.

Emily, your spunky and dramatic personality keeps us in stitches. You are a confident and giving girl. We love you so much! Happy Birthday, Big Girl!