Lucky Number 7!

Seven! The girl is seven. 7! It's shocking to me. I know that everyone says it. It goes by so fast. It's true, it really goes by fast. Too damn fast!

Always smiling.

Madison wanted to be in this world. 18 cycles for the boy. One for Madi. She was a challenge for months before she was even born. She tried to get out early. A number of times. And then when she was out, they held her up. A little tiny thing. She was cold. Always cold. Needed to be held all the time. Or she squeaked. A cute little squeaky sound.

That cute little squeaky sound is long gone. Gave way to a loud voice. She knows what she wants and she means business. To sum up: She Takes no Shit. Her long term goal is to be an anesthesiologist. Short term goal - get me to wear jeans less often. Odds are that she'll be done with med school before I start wearing jeans less but good luck to her. I wish her all the best. I do.

She's most comfortable in a tutu and some shade of pink. She's sassy and smart and makes me laugh, a real laugh, at least once a day.

It's scary to me how smart she is. How she just 'gets' it. She loves learning and craves knowledge.

She's kind. She says 'I love you'. She makes cards and draws pictures and gives them as gifts.

She properly uses air quotes and calls her brothers friends 'nerds'.

She is not what I expected seven years and one day ago. She was born small. Well, small comparatively. 6 pounds, 11 ounces. We didn't have clothes to fit her - we didn't expect a 'newborn'. But there she was - tiny. Head had to be supported, feedings were every other hour. Poor little thing couldn't eat enough to sleep any longer than a couple hours. The exact opposite of her brother.

And now, well... she's small. She's average height. But, she's 42 pounds. Barely registers on the graph. I've been asked at the pediatrician's office, more than once, if we're on WIC. Um, no. I can actually afford to feed her. She's just small.

She has straight brown hair. And most shocking - brown eyes!

She was supposed to be sturdy and have blonde curly hair and blue eyes.

I don't think this will be the first time she doesn't do what I expect.

Always properly dressed.

A 42 pound pink tutu wearing girl was just the start of the unexpected. She'll pull out a nerf gun and nail you between the eyes. She plays rough and can be aggressive on the soccer field and then pull on her ballet 'gear' and do that too. I don't know the terms, obviously...

I don't want time to go by too fast but I'm excited to see what the next years bring. Other than the teen years, we can probably skip over those.

I am excited to see the adult she becomes, if she does go into medicine, how she handles her bourbon - you know, the important stuff.

But most importantly, I'm excited to see tomorrow, or next Tuesday, or whatever happens next. Because this girl keeps things interesting.

Or, as she would say, "Seriously, Mother."

Always happy.

Always beautiful.

Always badass.