My youngest turned six today.
She's not a baby anymore.
We use to have a love-hate relationship because I liked having consistency and complacency and she thrived on tenacity. She taught me what God had been trying to teach me for a long time: that I am not in control.
By the time we arrived home from her birthday dinner she was tired and too full for cake. No compromising here: she'll be eating chocolate for breakfast tomorrow.
1 comment:
Happy Birthday--to both of you! I can usually ignore that Holly's getting older, it's Trevor getting older that kills me. My baby!
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