It’s early, she crawls into my bed, her eyes still sleepy, barely gets her feet under the covers before the words spill out of her mouth, “Mom, today’s our date, remember?!?!” I remembered. It’s all we’ve talked about for days.
“I am going to wear my fancy dress, ok, Mom.”
She looks in the mirror.
“I think I look older. Do you think I look older, Mom?”
I nod. She does.
“It’s almost my birthday!” She squeals. “I think when it’s my birthday I am going to be this tall!” she says as she points to my chest.
I know she won’t. But, she’s determined to grow up, get bigger, be older.
We go see Dr. Suess’ movie “The Lorax” in 3D. Afterwards, we talk about which parts we liked, which parts we didn’t.
She wants to get her nails done (again)…sigh…but, so do I, so we totally do it :-) She is the youngest one there by far. They treat her well. She feels special.
On our way home, we stop for ice cream. We sit and lick our cones and talk some more. She seems older. She leans back in the booth. I snap this picture.
I start to tickle her, she giggles…that same giggle she she had when she was an itty bitty baby. It hasn’t changed. I feel better.