Today my baby is legal.
Nope, she’s not legal to drink. Nor vote. Not get married, and not drive either.
My baby is legal to be a passenger in a car without a booster seat, car seat, or any other device designed to keep children safe in a car. It is the first milestone birthday that she has been anticipating and that she is noting, as she reaches a new stage in her little life.
This evening we will make her favourite meal, salmon with extra lemon juice, broccoli and coconut rice. Her presents are no longer the kind that come in a gigantic cardboard box filled with a zillion plastic pieces. The only clothes she wants to wear now are black white and brown. She seems grown up far beyond her years. She is very tall and so achingly beautiful, and my lovely baby girl is growing up into a girl that I just want to hang out with because she is so interesting and charming and sweet and fun.
Happy Birthday My Darling Eight-Year-Old. I love you more than you can ever know, at least until you have babies of your own, who will undoubtedly also grow up much too fast.