The Many Faces of "7"

I'm learning that being "7" requires constant change. It's almost like a metamorphosis really.

One minute she had all her baby teeth ... then two weeks later ... she looks completely different and on her way to grown up missing the front two.

Getting off the school bus at 4:00, she looks like an average second grader. At 6:00, dressed for dance, she looks long and leggy and far too poised to be tying her shoes with "bunny ears."

It's getting complicated. How is it possible she can whine about not getting to sit in the right seat at the dinner table, then sit there and tell me that her friend is starting to talk about boys?

I marvel at our discussions about this presidential elections. Her latest comment - "I'll bet Hillary is glad she got out of that mess." I also marvel at how she can still take such delight in making mudpies in the sandbox with her siblings.

I wish I could remember more about being 7 and navigating second grade. I wonder if it seemed to everyone around me how quickly the tides changed ... and how differently the sand looked once they receded.