The Baby Is 7

Can you still be called 'the baby' when your 7? Today I have wondered. A year older. My baby. The one I snuggled a little longer and squeezed a little tighter, because I knew she was my last. As newborn, I seemed to linger longer and smell her sweet baby breath more. I soaked it all in knowing that this baby was 'the baby'.

Today she advanced to 7. We bought her bigger clothes, bigger shoes and a bigger bike.

But yet, when I look at her, I can still remember 1. First cake, first doll, first birthday. I'm not quite sure how she moved from 1 to 7 so quickly.

We spent the day opening presents and racing go-karts. All the things you can do when you're 7.

But here she is at 2. Sitting on the table with chubby cheeks and a Fisher Price toy. Again, how did 2 become 7? I blinked my eyes and the toddler grew into a little girl.

At dinner I looked at her racing around the restaurant. She didn't listen to my incessant requests to sit and be still. Not once. When Todd asked, she stuck her tongue out at him. No more sweet newborn to squeeze and smell. No more toddler who follows the older girls around. Now she is bigger. Now she is 7.

If I look at her closely, bigger just may be better. 7 is just as sweet as 1. It's definitely sweeter than 13. And no matter what age, and no matter how many times she sticks her tongue out, 'the baby' will always be my baby. Even at 7, I linger longer and squeeze her tighter. I will for always.

Happy Birthday my Addie Bean. Thank you for being mine.