My darling Olivia Anne,
Happy seventh birthday, sweet girl! I always wonder what to write you, what to say that could possibly do justice to everything I feel being your mama. It's a gift, Livvy Love, to know that seven years ago, Daddy and I went to the hospital and then came home with you.
This morning, up at the ripe hour of 5:50 a.m., eating your unicorn Lucky Charms while Daddy told you that technically you weren't seven yet because Mommy didn't have you until around 10:30 a.m., you paused and said, "yeaaah, but it's still my birthday."
I don't know if this response was to ensure that he and I knew those presents on the table belonged to you no matter what the clock said, or if it was the only thing you could think of to say to your two crazy parents who have repeatedly wished you happy birthday since Monday--another thing you finally had enough of.
"I know, I know, happy birthday. You already said that."
Get used to it, sister--you're our only, and while the perks of single-child-dom include hogging the television and never having to share your toys, the downside means two parents with a hyper-focus and somewhat-crazed amount of affection. Wow, we can't wait for your teenage years ;)
(JK, we can totally wait. Let's enjoy seven.)
You're a dancing machine these days, Liv, giving up that illustrious gymnast career for center stage (those bars "hurt your hands"), and man, you can kill a routine to Megan Trainor. The sass is real in you, oh young one, and Miss Haven loves it. But, to be on the safe side, we talked about the difference between being a sassy dancer (yay), and being a diva (nay). My favorite part of this conversation came when, after I explained what a diva did, you looked down at your lap and said, "I think I can be a diva sometimes."
You heart, Livvy Love, is so full, and while, yes, you can be a diva sometimes, you can also be the kindest, sweetest, happiest girl that ever lived. I saw this leaving your music performance the other night when you said hello or goodbye to almost every person there, using their name. I had zero idea who these people were, but you know them, no matter what grade, and you always acknowledge them personally. That's not the mark of a diva, Liv, that's the mark of a leader.
We've had our battles this past year, sweet girl. You're cautious and stubborn and so firmly rooted within yourself that there are days I (literally) have to shove you out of your comfort zone, just so you can see what you're capable of. Sometimes that shove hasn't been received well (hello, skiing and bike riding), but sometimes, you've flown (oh, heeey, soccer and swimming and reading and writing). Just know that whatever you're doing, I'm there...probably with a sign...definitely with a shirt that has your face on it...and maybe a megaphone to shout your name;)
Happy seventh birthday, Livvy Love. Go do you--I'm probably only two steps behind you. #sorrynotsorry