K turned 7 yesterday. It seems so strange, to see her growing up so quickly. Some days I look around and feel like I'm playing house, like I'm way to young to have three daughters and a mortgage and car payment. But it also seems like my girls have always been here, like 8 years ago never existed.
K is a sweet sweet child. She is very considerate of others feelings, almost to a fault. She loves to dance and perform but has some stage fright. (who doesn't!) She is beautiful, exquisite in my eyes. She has a freckle on her ankle that she's had since birth. She is missing more front teeth than she has, with another one lose, and she loves it! She giggles softly, no matter how hard she's laughing. She tries hard to be kind all the time and she rarely whines. She does throw little drama queen routines and will say, on occasion, that it is the worst day ever of her whole life. She's pretty darn healthy, having outgrown her ear infections, and most of her asthma and allergies. She loves to read and is good at it. She trips on math, but fights hard for it. She loves to draw and paint and do crafts. She says she wants to be an archeologist when she grows up. Or maybe a fashion designer. Or maybe a famous singer. She loves her sisters but gives into them too much. She craves one-on-one time with Jay or I, and we make sure she gets it. She needs hugs some times, but usually prefers to sit next to you. She is short-ish for her age and has long skinny legs, but worries that her belly is fat. She is perfect in every way, says me.
Happy Birthday to my biggest girl.