My little girl turned seven today. We celebrated with a very nice dinner in the restaurant of her choice, and she opened presents without frenzy and was suitably grateful. I’m not sure where I got a seven-year-old. The last I remember, I was thinking about what colour to paint the nursery.

She’s suddenly turned into this big kid. No more baby fat, although she is the smallest in her class, she is suddenly so lean. I miss the chubby little legs and the dimples in her knees. Her birthday presents were chapter books and CDs and electronic things, although someone did give her a set of Bratz (miniature hooker dolls) and a (nother) Barbie, so she did get some toys. I can guess though that Christmas will be mostly big-kid stuff.

This week, she scored her first two goals in soccer. She was positively glowing with pride. She has this coordination, this mastery of her body that she just didn’t have last year. This year, she gets soccer. I think our team, actually, might be a bit stacked. Six of the nine kids played last year, and we have at least a couple of ringers. The boys are the only ones that keep score, though, it’s mostly just fun running and kicking the ball. Aimee is actually willing to get in there and go after the ball this year. She knows it’s okay to take things from her friends, in this context, at least.

And she still hasn’t been corrupted by fashion, not seriously at least. The peer pressure hasn’t given rise to any poor choices, as far as I have seen. As a Grade One kid in a multi-age class, it may have given rise to some good ones, even. By choice, she does Grade Two math and spelling and reading. She’s pleasant and social and fun.

She still has her little-kid moments, though. Usually when there hasn’t been enough sleep. She had a doozer of a tantrum this week, starting over a video game (portents of coming years, I fear) that lasted for an hour or more. She still has trouble calming herself down when she gets going. But it’s coming along.

Oh well. I had some moments today when I was remembering what I was doing seven years prior to that particular minute of the day. I remember thinking how I could never forget one second of it. Now I wonder where it has gone.

Well, happy birthday, little girl. So far so good.


About therapeuticrambling

I am a wife, a mom, a nurse, a writer. I enjoy laughing.
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One Response to Seven

  1. celticdreams says:

    The 7 year old truly lives up to the whoville image with that grin and tuft of curl poking out of her head…

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