Dear Indy,

On the morning that you were born, the winter sky was still dark and the stars were fading. I remember holding you for the first time and noticing the grey january morning slip in through the curtains. I remember the small weight of you in my arms and the way you smelled and the strange feeling that I had been waiting for you my whole life. It was you, and it was always going to be you.

For the past seven years, you have been my teacher. You have taught me that gold gloves can be paired with zebra print, and that it’s ok to talk to myself in the car or kitchen. You have taught me the words to songs from Mamma Mia, how to create a place-setting using a doily and a charger, and why its important to organize clothes by color. You have taught me how to arrange a bouquet of flowers, how to make friends at bus stops and grocery stores, and how to find beauty in everything. You constantly remind me to make every occasion a special one, and to not be afraid to use long-stemmed wine glasses. You prefer tea and purple berets and sunny days and tape dispensers in the shape of high-heels. You drink out of commuter mugs and you love Audrey Hepburn and you wish you owned a disco ball.

In the mornings you tell me your dreams, and I hold you on the couch, your long body stretched out in my arms. I try to remember the feeling of holding you against my chest when you were a newborn, and it seems impossible that you were ever that small. I can’t remember what my life was like before you.

This morning at 6:31, you officially turned seven, and now you are my favorite number and the age that I was 27 years ago. Now you are seven, as in: seven jellybeans, seven rainbows, seven winks from your eye, seven snowflakes, seven seahorses, seven times around the sun. You are halfway to fourteen, and everyday I beg you not to get taller or older, but you keep doing it anyway. And everyday, your bones and muscles and hands and heart grow bigger, and everyday I watch you move through this world with bravery and style and curiosity and love. Every little thing you do is magic. happy 7, little love.

*all images taken with an eye!phone. my instagramz can be found here.


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