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Browsing Tag: growing up

And Then She Turned Seven and I Maybe Cried

Last week, somewhere between a family party on Saturday (with my brother and his wife in town from Milwaukee), and a weeknight meal and another get-together that went late, a sudden cold that required two days of school absence and a good dose of Free Willy and Dolphin Tale 2, a Friday evening pizza party in our house with seventeen first-grade girls (yes. You read that correctly), our oldest daughter turned seven. There was a cake in there, too, and two nights of cupcakes, and dinner at a sushi restaurant because Saoirse really, really likes “the orange kind” and doesn’t get it often, because, you know, it’s sushi, and then, like that, she turned seven. Seven. All she really wanted–besides the salmon–was a helium-filled balloon shaped like a dolphin. All I wanted was to keep her six for just a little while longer. At least one of us got what she wished for. Saoirse has lost one of her top front teeth, and the other is loose. Her hair is long now, grown out from the Great Haircut Fiasco of 2013. She grew four inches in the…

And No One’s Allowed to Complain About the Heat

We’ve adopted the idea of a slow summer–you know, the 70s one you keep hearing about. It’s not because we need to announce some sort of manifesto, or statement, or grand philosophical theory about kids needing to be bored, or how a scheduled calendar creates a sad kid, etc. Some of this is simply propelled by necessity: we just bought a new house, and extra petty cash isn’t exactly falling out of the sky like all that rain we got last week. I’m on deadline, and only have so much time to turn in an awesome, completely revised, perfectly sensible book manuscript to my editor (amazing words, those you just read. Scary words, too). My brother is getting married this summer (whoop! whoop!), and we’re all in the wedding (whoop!), and the wedding is about half the country away (whaaa?) from our corner of Pennsylvania. So, craziness, in all its wonderful glory. But it’s also because that’s who we are (hmm. Maybe there is a bit of a manifesto happening here). David and I aren’t ones to schedule our kids into a…

Just Not Yet

You know, I should’ve known. Should’ve been prepared for it. She’s grown tall, just like somebody pulled on the top of her head, straight up, because she’s going up up up, and not out. Her hair, when wet and combed, falls down past the middle of her back (not that you’d ever know it, because it’s constantly bouncing around her head in those crazy springs of awesome). She speaks eloquently, sings on key, can write the name “Tim” (who’s Tim, is what I want to know…), and count, and say her prayers even though we didn’t even know she has some memorized. So I should’ve seen it coming. But she’s the second born. The “middle child.” And so, because of that, I didn’t. But then today happened, and my littlest girl celebrated her last day of her first year of preschool.  My little Quinn, who sucks her thumb when she’s tired and was oh-so shy a few short months ago, giggling in her teacher’s arms. My baby girl…