Every birthday seems to fly at me faster and faster. Every day you seem a little older, a little more mature. As much as I try, I wish like the dickens that I could stop time so I could keep you at home forever.
This morning Dad said, "It seems like just yesterday she was turning 7."
No, it's been a very loooong year. So long. But we made it out (barely), and you are flourishing and becoming the stunning young woman you are meant to be. Sadie Rose, I cannot for the life of me figure you out. You'd think I would have some sort of an advantage being that we're both of the female population. However, that seems to be for naught because I am constantly in a state of confusion as to your next move, thought, or rationalization. You like to cuddle first thing in the morning but you won't hold my hand the rest of the day. You like robots and art and reading and science. You like dancing and engineering and fashion. That's like using all of your brain all of the time. To be honest, I don't know that I can keep up. Some days I have trouble staying awake once I get home from work.
This morning as we stood on the sidewalk in front of school, I felt like it was just you and me despite the throng of cars and kids and bikes. The blanket of clouds hung over our heads, and I squished your face in my hands and I wished I could load you back in the car and take you for donuts and shopping. You were my piece of home outside the brick and mortar walls of school, and I held on until the very last moment before you had to go inside. I was afraid to let you go because you were taking such a huge piece of my heart with you.
I love you so very much, kiddo. You are the heart of my heart, and I don't know what I'd do without you. Happy birthday, Sadie. You deserve it.