seven.

Dear Ella,

Today you turn seven. From the moment you entered the world in a wild, loud, (and to be perfectly honest) slightly traumatic fashion, you have blown us away.

A baby girl. Blue-eyed and fussy, at first. And then bright-eyed and sunny as a one year old, two year old, three year old. Sassy and funny and so, so smart as a preschooler, preK-er, Kindergartner.

Now, as a 1st grader, there are moments when I still have glimpses of that little round-headed girl, and then there are other moments when I see the next decade of our lives together stretched out before us. All lip gloss and jean jackets and cheerleading skirts and social outings. Wildly smart. Fiercely independent.

And then those moments fade again and you're my little girl, curled up next to me on the couch (we watch HGTV together, these days). We are in the middle, you and I. A mother and a daughter figuring out what it means to grow up, to stretch, to dance.

We are different in so many ways - I have brown hair and love all things neat and orderly. You have blonde hair and embrace the loud and the messy. I think with my head, you follow your heart.

But really, none of our differences matter - those are just the details. What matters is that you are my daughter and I am your mom. We belong to each other. We always will.

It is a profound privilege to raise a daughter, and I am so glad God chose us to help raise you. You are sunshine, joy, laughter personified and sent straight from God's heart, into our home.

As you turn seven, you are learning what it means to be a true friend, that the mean girls are really just sad inside, and that there is a bigger, hurting world beyond our little culdesac. You are learning how to be a sister, how to be gracious even when the other person doesn't deserve it, how to be responsible, confident, and kind.

When you were a tiny little girl, all snuggled into your big bed, you used to pray out loud, "Thank you God for making me just the way I am."

Amen, baby girl, amen.

We will never stop thanking God for you. You were an unexpected gift, the one we didn't see coming. A beautiful girl (beyond our wildest dreams) inside and out.

In short, Ella Jeanne, you knock our socks off.

Happy birthday, sweet girl. We love you.

Love,
Mommy (& Daddy too)

{five | four | two}