Seven

On December 4th, our oldest turned... well, you already read the title of my post.

Look at this girl.

Doesn't she look so composed and mature? And she is... about 60% of the time. The other 40% she's still as wild and crazy and loud and silly and bouncing-off-the-walls as ever she was. Precious first daughter. How she fills our home with life and laughter.

Meg wanted a fairy garden cake that she saw in an old Family Fun magazine. I made a gluten-free ice-cream cake version to accomodate our family's changing dietary needs. (More on that in another post.) The fairy garden turned out pretty cute, notwithstanding the fact that I've always been kind of against decorating my kids' cakes with plastic toys. It seemed like taking the easy way out. This year, I Googled "make your own fairy cake toppers," read one blog post on creating a fondant fairy, clicked that window closed and ordered the darn plastic things. (Hey, they doubled as gifts!)

(Do you like the stray vegetable remnants and other spoils of dinner hiding behind the cake pan? What can I say? Just another example of my peerless food photography.)

So it was a very happy birthday for Margaret Lauren. But just to give you a clearer idea of her temperament, I do have to tell this one story. Meg was so intensely excited, so keyed up about her birthday. I know this is normal for kids.

But for Meg, the excitement was so palpable; it was embodied to such an extent that, at the end of the day when it was all over, she literally experienced a physical purge. The day was ending. We had enjoyed her birthday dinner (baked potato soup), we had eaten birthday cake, we had opened presents, we had celebrated Advent. Jammies were on; teeth were brushed; little bodies were in beds, we were singing final lullabies, and the light was about to go off when... Meg made a final request to visit the bathroom. One the way down the ladder, she suddenly bolted to the toilet, slammed up the seat, and--moaning prayers that God would not let her throw up--she lost it. All of it. Soup, salad, cake--goodbye! Then we cleaned her up, popped her back into bed, and... she crashed out and slept the sleep of the righteous all night long. And that's just the way she rolls. This was so NOT the first time that she has barfed because of over-excitement.

Yep, she's a crazy one. Crazy, and beautiful, and smart... and ours. For seven whole years. Thank you, Lord.