My daughter is SEVEN today.
She was born feisty. She knew exactly what she wanted out of life.
A lot of what I did? Upset her.
She cried. A lot.
She'd have this look on her face 90% of the time I was around her:
I should have known she'd be a stubborn one. When I was pregnant, she wouldn't allow me to eat my beloved Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. The second I'd eat one, my stomach would heave and I'd feel the urge to vomit.
It didn't get better after she was born. No, after she was born, I had to watch what I ate because she was breastfed. I could not have the following: chocolate, diet coke, or a lot of fast foods.
If I dared to eat them?
It would be a long day. And night.
"I don't understand," I once sobbed. "Tommy never did any of this!"
People would say, yes but, you do realize they are two different people?
Of course. Of course I knew that. But I assumed since they came from the same parents, that they would have the same temper.
I learned to understand Natalie's moods.
She might have been noisy, but guys? She didn't mind when I'd dress her up. In fact, she seemed to love when I bought her new clothes. Her fingers would graze across the material and her eyes would light up.
Her love for Disney princesses started young. Snow White was her very first favorite.
And then she discovered Rapunzel:
Now she loves them all. She believes they all exist. Getting to meet them?
Was a dream come true for her. "They were all nice! And they all had soft hair!"
I hope she never loses her imagination. I hope no one ever tells her that it's silly to like Disney Princesses or believe they are real.
I know there will be a day when she no longer likes princesses or make believe.
But then again, maybe she'll always hold onto it.
Maybe she'll want to write stories, as I do.
I hope we will always have a fabulous relationship. I know I'll embarrass her sometimes.
I hope she always knows what she wants out of life.
Happy Birthday, Natalie!