Seven

As of tomorrow (1.24.01) I have 7-year-olds.

I just LOVE those beautiful girls.

Grace arrived first- screaming, with painted doll lips and a mohawk. Tiny but mighty. :)

Emma, ever the drama queen, came second, holding her breath. Her hair- duck fuzz. Her rosy cheeks and sweet cry.

I'm in awe of them.

It seems that I brought them home yesterday, bundled up. "It'll never be the same," I told Jeff. "We were two, now we're four. There will always be two more people here."

And there are.

And they are loud. And funny. And crazy. And genuine. And selfish. And loving. And creative. And silly. And beautiful.

I am so in love with them.

And I can't believe they're turning 7!

Yesterday Emma said, "Mama! I'm 7!"
I replied, "No hunny, you're 6! Give me one more day of 6 before you turn 7. You'll never be 6 again. Enjoy it!"
"No, Mama. I'm 7!"
"You're 6."
"I'm sssssssssssseeeeeeevennnnnnnnnnnn."
"Emma- You're six. Be six. One more day."
Sigh. "But six is so borrrrrring."

Grace is not AS concerned about the moment her new age will take effect. Instead, she is my Martha Stewart party planner. She is constantly revising her dog and cat party in her head. She presents it to me like we are collaborating on a 5-course meal for business executives.

"I'm thinking....you know how we were going to have the 'Who Let the Dogs Out' song during our game? Well...I'm thinking we should get more songs on your i-pod to play during all the games. Like...cat songs too."

"Do you know any cat songs, Grace?"

"No. But...I'm thinking there must be some. And Mama... Breemember (I love how she says "remember" and I never correct her even though I should....) Breemember when we thought of painting everyone's face? Well, I'm thinking we can let them choose the color for their whiskers." When Grace is serious she always says "I'm thinking...."

Seven. I don't think there are many ages I like more than (almost) Seven.

Giggles

Love notes: "Mama- You are the best Mama EVER. I love you so so so so so much"

Loose teeth.

Stuffed animals that are REAL.

An incredible compassion for anyone or anything in pain. (Unless it's your sister and you're the one inflicting it.)

Using your dad as a jungle gym.

Pretend. Mermaids in the tub. Horses on the grass. The car? A boat. The loveseat? A stage.

Conversations with the pets.

Santa? Yes. (Duh....)

Tooth fairy? Maybe...

Easter Bunny? No way.

Big questions about clouds, the sky, and flying.

Belief that it would be perfectly fine to marry your dad and live at home forever.

Endless stories that go on and on and on (even-like in that commercial- if you get OUT of the car and walk all the way around to the other side to open the door for them....they're still talking like you can hear them.)

A TOTAL sense of humor (tonight it was for a strange and particularly bad singer on American Idol.)

The absolute need for your parents during a nightmare, a new situation, or any illness.

Tight hugs that really MEAN it.

Seven