Double Digits

I knew it would happen, but I can't believe it's already here. Today my beautiful daughter turned 10. Double digits. Sadness for mom. This birthday has been particularly hard for me. I'm not sure why.  Think it has something to do with the fact that this sweet little girl who would only wear dresses . . . <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIkMPLRzk7qmc_j_-p_pot0RfEVYs_IGZy3otSZT2fKTGQuvCs5fVLXGK6Vc0t_Xq7PSiOs1yzdDxKm5Y9beszTKBkbnIiB7BvmratcjYkOiDW0SXXqjrgYmedNgF9NlTgWGiQx_bBJboQ/s1600/IMG_9544.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIkMPLRzk7qmc_j_-p_pot0RfEVYs_IGZy3otSZT2fKTGQuvCs5fVLXGK6Vc0t_Xq7PSiOs1yzdDxKm5Y9beszTKBkbnIiB7BvmratcjYkOiDW0SXXqjrgYmedNgF9NlTgWGiQx_bBJboQ/s640/IMG_9544.JPG" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyk3cMbp7_jiuM3rexuWqn2qfaX7bFFG2ioVzcdmlHmaNkcxML12X1UXL0tDFxM4bv9mX3o6iClNyV_qu3RyQRfa74Jq2LjYNSGwp0lkuclUT2v3qlvGh8q3ttJGEiN1rrRyd7LOUTu2sq/s1600/IMG_9113.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyk3cMbp7_jiuM3rexuWqn2qfaX7bFFG2ioVzcdmlHmaNkcxML12X1UXL0tDFxM4bv9mX3o6iClNyV_qu3RyQRfa74Jq2LjYNSGwp0lkuclUT2v3qlvGh8q3ttJGEiN1rrRyd7LOUTu2sq/s640/IMG_9113.JPG" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Is now this sweet big girl who would rather wear sporty shorts or pants . . . </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9o4ZiwNdbw7FSsPo9LPL5HioCuWy1dco1hpr8nFr0154NRw9i2120pfNyhGAprNEZbkARmyGvdC3Jwh29DMgANzucXgfwJrtAlpXTgcoxEqHER6_oB2NDbJ0a2qwWQkbyIpCy5qmUuIdz/s1600/IMG_1484.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9o4ZiwNdbw7FSsPo9LPL5HioCuWy1dco1hpr8nFr0154NRw9i2120pfNyhGAprNEZbkARmyGvdC3Jwh29DMgANzucXgfwJrtAlpXTgcoxEqHER6_oB2NDbJ0a2qwWQkbyIpCy5qmUuIdz/s640/IMG_1484.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyTexoFlTRmBKx7twcZSTHSThS3sQqX5M86MVamCuHRAV_DgXA_MniIr9zKFUNWprHTpzmPNhgxNNZG63CXB5WE9UiSI_6qbYjKHM3-7VFPYk_qw5QNtu-2vQ-7OdJDue1aDPWpyJ58-dZ/s1600/IMG_0346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyTexoFlTRmBKx7twcZSTHSThS3sQqX5M86MVamCuHRAV_DgXA_MniIr9zKFUNWprHTpzmPNhgxNNZG63CXB5WE9UiSI_6qbYjKHM3-7VFPYk_qw5QNtu-2vQ-7OdJDue1aDPWpyJ58-dZ/s400/IMG_0346.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Happy Birthday, my dear sweet Meg. I love you more every day. Where does the time go?</div>

Double Digits

I knew it would happen, but I can't believe it's already here. Today my beautiful daughter turned 10. Double digits. Sadness for mom...

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Birthday Girl

Do you remember where you were 9 years ago today? I'll never forget. I was giving birth to this beauty:<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirYDv76W0ow4I7BjJnTsld-nVP1jypEtqDbElR9_dq00BNwCBRZTdAuJeczBjHwynub4Uwf7zxtFj5Ll_wrNGeJXx9CctNC4fAnzuCTVJiE50W33TVEbTgywIzh8a_GSFjybDA6gntE6sq/s1600/P1010186.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirYDv76W0ow4I7BjJnTsld-nVP1jypEtqDbElR9_dq00BNwCBRZTdAuJeczBjHwynub4Uwf7zxtFj5Ll_wrNGeJXx9CctNC4fAnzuCTVJiE50W33TVEbTgywIzh8a_GSFjybDA6gntE6sq/s400/P1010186.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Last year, I wrote a little birthday tribute to her that you can read <a href="http://myinteriorlife.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-girl.html">here</a>. I just wanted to take a moment to bask in the glory that is Meg. I am forever grateful that she is mine.  </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVpvOuTR4FL1JIPPF7LSA6hD_ntc4p-jnRYR3pYaa5bIyeFXn4KKwgY_sF-panb9EBV9XefJgQjJ0kGrza8S4UxM-k4LiFz_zqK6XRbNhhyphenhyphen4crwsaQS2MFHKmmDgXJse9Tp5bN6zs0nwtT/s1600/IMG_0659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVpvOuTR4FL1JIPPF7LSA6hD_ntc4p-jnRYR3pYaa5bIyeFXn4KKwgY_sF-panb9EBV9XefJgQjJ0kGrza8S4UxM-k4LiFz_zqK6XRbNhhyphenhyphen4crwsaQS2MFHKmmDgXJse9Tp5bN6zs0nwtT/s400/IMG_0659.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As a sassy 5-year-old</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK7rOD0Ete7IjKWJpcsZp-g396qoyMjq4zJNVAsM3m9c_Q3Un4ZGh8_AD6riV78F5n4OYnuQxlI-XquhdHTtD09H4lH4pHIc8ymsQ4tzAmMYfaNdjSG4iMnxwxKj1KI9YFNg7v18atAm8l/s1600/IMG_9368.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK7rOD0Ete7IjKWJpcsZp-g396qoyMjq4zJNVAsM3m9c_Q3Un4ZGh8_AD6riV78F5n4OYnuQxlI-XquhdHTtD09H4lH4pHIc8ymsQ4tzAmMYfaNdjSG4iMnxwxKj1KI9YFNg7v18atAm8l/s400/IMG_9368.jpeg" width="266" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And now on the cusp of the double digits.</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;">Happy 9th Birthday, Meg. I'm so very proud of you and love you more than you'll ever know.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKwjhN7mGx7FJMcwLqp7KUlg3AhrK-MyuzCHgsrp8EwWAZMDpT9v6Eq-uo0_GgVrfIWmwjROVd8V9BhiSahtjy5q54n-aKks5O5wNy-3WEzOaFI52dzrqNBP1D14EysvFfwYVmP-gs6yfL/s1600/IMG_0688.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKwjhN7mGx7FJMcwLqp7KUlg3AhrK-MyuzCHgsrp8EwWAZMDpT9v6Eq-uo0_GgVrfIWmwjROVd8V9BhiSahtjy5q54n-aKks5O5wNy-3WEzOaFI52dzrqNBP1D14EysvFfwYVmP-gs6yfL/s400/IMG_0688.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div>

Birthday Girl

Do you remember where you were 9 years ago today? I'll never forget. I was giving birth to this beauty: Last year, I wrote a little birt...

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My Girl

<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-size: large;">Today my beautiful, darling daughter Margaret Grace turns eight.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4_m8YBVI6w5E-F8G1PBBcdjtzOQJsqDy59D8pcEtdnb4_R5pTr3IkNASj9nwLUF8WIVKy_qb6Z9iDCTYqYIfkICStr-b4gXs3b4kD5ydEzm7lRWl2iC_U-S3naZb84aIGYw5laP6BTeQ/s1600-h/P1010186.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4_m8YBVI6w5E-F8G1PBBcdjtzOQJsqDy59D8pcEtdnb4_R5pTr3IkNASj9nwLUF8WIVKy_qb6Z9iDCTYqYIfkICStr-b4gXs3b4kD5ydEzm7lRWl2iC_U-S3naZb84aIGYw5laP6BTeQ/s400/P1010186.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">I'll try not to get too sappy or sentimental. But how can I not, really? Just look at that face.</span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCNtVqPtbbK9-d-3XM6GGbruT0gf3JB9dIdLGqSbMM0cOJ0XxBn4TEa6hk8NT-P7qJCzwojd-_TxviLxxz7gSxRQ6uhz1PrH-T4janfSfRRg7KPoCS1JY3PJTao2_u8x6vE29TFbY827o/s1600-h/IMG_0180.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCNtVqPtbbK9-d-3XM6GGbruT0gf3JB9dIdLGqSbMM0cOJ0XxBn4TEa6hk8NT-P7qJCzwojd-_TxviLxxz7gSxRQ6uhz1PrH-T4janfSfRRg7KPoCS1JY3PJTao2_u8x6vE29TFbY827o/s400/IMG_0180.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Meg has always been determined to do what she wants to do. Some call it headstrong, others just say stubborn. For instance, in this photo, despite our gentle prodding to pick a riper specimen, she picks the greenest pumpkin in the patch. She didn't want an orange one. However, it does contrast nicely with her orange romper. Too much more orange could have been a disaster. She is my daughter after all . . . color is of the utmost importance.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6q0J0mJCcjQVgqu0b5U8nL-uuSm362E6DtP9OGoC3OJ8gu2DXfW_N5KY5wMPJLtm1pMX6-v2qzU0aU-hj5c4McwPO6DHn5E-r_VLzw2FjRBxbOQQfA_CzOaKsRqbmWY7vCb8I284kyJk/s1600-h/IMG_0266.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6q0J0mJCcjQVgqu0b5U8nL-uuSm362E6DtP9OGoC3OJ8gu2DXfW_N5KY5wMPJLtm1pMX6-v2qzU0aU-hj5c4McwPO6DHn5E-r_VLzw2FjRBxbOQQfA_CzOaKsRqbmWY7vCb8I284kyJk/s400/IMG_0266.jpg" width="400" /></a> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Forever inquisitive . . . </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguJBLA4tQ9Q8_wpY2_M007OhD1e8jrF2z6yaQ7Aagq62I-mhWCCl8pbJHyefjwGBJ6fgUkYGxOwBTL1Pj8_rd03ic_400nzejk4I3L02pVCz_x3-Aar3jWY5rhOCgGv4QGrrlzmxemmu8/s1600-h/IMG_0142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguJBLA4tQ9Q8_wpY2_M007OhD1e8jrF2z6yaQ7Aagq62I-mhWCCl8pbJHyefjwGBJ6fgUkYGxOwBTL1Pj8_rd03ic_400nzejk4I3L02pVCz_x3-Aar3jWY5rhOCgGv4QGrrlzmxemmu8/s400/IMG_0142.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Always full of energy, she was never much of a napper. I think she feared she might miss something important.</span><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_U3QKSXicYgUcXLqQNnIciCoEj6L2_e51y_V4fjskPjlsaB_bV5LXPt5xuQw3tS5mCs7Z2w8LVqo_xanH6_dByAfnU2ke1sxB0FxdkJJcqM9aMQvl44l46SH5CUL2YyfYc1qWn7YOFes/s1600-h/IMG_0413.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_U3QKSXicYgUcXLqQNnIciCoEj6L2_e51y_V4fjskPjlsaB_bV5LXPt5xuQw3tS5mCs7Z2w8LVqo_xanH6_dByAfnU2ke1sxB0FxdkJJcqM9aMQvl44l46SH5CUL2YyfYc1qWn7YOFes/s400/IMG_0413.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Her boundless energy often got her in trouble. Here she is sporting one of two casts she had between the ages of two and three . . . while I was pregnant with her baby brother. Notice the hair in her face. She refused to wear bows or headbands. Always the non-conformist!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5EuWEEnvgkHXTF2GHmsWtRY5jNzS2BK_ScqLxZo9C6WoI00J0UuNNosLoRqik6-FdfEVEMsuK6yFO-cF98sxBLQ7z7HFtUSqG-0YwCCAU8wX5FS2F02Ma7Ep8jWvGYEWhoiIv3Gue3H8/s1600-h/IMG_0167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5EuWEEnvgkHXTF2GHmsWtRY5jNzS2BK_ScqLxZo9C6WoI00J0UuNNosLoRqik6-FdfEVEMsuK6yFO-cF98sxBLQ7z7HFtUSqG-0YwCCAU8wX5FS2F02Ma7Ep8jWvGYEWhoiIv3Gue3H8/s400/IMG_0167.JPG" width="300" /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Unless the headband was part of a costume. And speaking of her baby brother Pierce, Meg is an excellent big sister. Always keeping tabs on him (even when he'd prefer to be left alone).</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJ5TdxcS-7Rsh7ZfO4qZ97Hxk8dZx19sCtpy69MYy3DANGoUVggQlzFFFbCjaL94YpdJJ_WB2ScB96K1gUk8Sey2qlxY5BxnFkdQlg87XeXjuRdxALCdq49fAoo-RE_kSI9L7POyk_-c/s1600-h/IMG_8918.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJ5TdxcS-7Rsh7ZfO4qZ97Hxk8dZx19sCtpy69MYy3DANGoUVggQlzFFFbCjaL94YpdJJ_WB2ScB96K1gUk8Sey2qlxY5BxnFkdQlg87XeXjuRdxALCdq49fAoo-RE_kSI9L7POyk_-c/s400/IMG_8918.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">So, while she's still too young to decide whether she'll be an athlete . . . </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjqOpBarHRdJtUU8E1KfqejuqWvoOzJcWOO0jnCwRo5r3U8d3QXdgNNy3xw0YdLEbf6XryIvRIQSBtpWvetMRx40ug0knhK_gUsvCTojNoQbWa8lyINudxHrsPiUdMI1U274JPca3pQ7o/s1600-h/IMG_4562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjqOpBarHRdJtUU8E1KfqejuqWvoOzJcWOO0jnCwRo5r3U8d3QXdgNNy3xw0YdLEbf6XryIvRIQSBtpWvetMRx40ug0knhK_gUsvCTojNoQbWa8lyINudxHrsPiUdMI1U274JPca3pQ7o/s400/IMG_4562.JPG" width="267" /></a> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">a scientist . . . </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7_f5lpIvySfHjw_0S7eRnLovC89S3SdZ-QBzk0-frRmug5ybf1WRPQR8b6a4Vm2CwvTLwzMyzLarEnoylVIL_16nilRkY_YEUyOCKehirN-9T60QxhqDxUTlWvV9q_HXALwKwd32PXd0/s1600-h/IMG_4425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7_f5lpIvySfHjw_0S7eRnLovC89S3SdZ-QBzk0-frRmug5ybf1WRPQR8b6a4Vm2CwvTLwzMyzLarEnoylVIL_16nilRkY_YEUyOCKehirN-9T60QxhqDxUTlWvV9q_HXALwKwd32PXd0/s400/IMG_4425.jpg" width="300" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> a fashion designer . . . </span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCynQ4P_IQiBX3-VPd8BetZ39e8zdXWKkPecH3VBgPwHUIyI_m7XUR-MoLcJ5FLIr2xTv05Ym5R5C2tWd5RHSn_aLIIAHP4piAbiLBToY-8L0DeBOzwPa2TbKllhWkjqOtvcZttFkwMYk/s1600-h/IMG_4117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCynQ4P_IQiBX3-VPd8BetZ39e8zdXWKkPecH3VBgPwHUIyI_m7XUR-MoLcJ5FLIr2xTv05Ym5R5C2tWd5RHSn_aLIIAHP4piAbiLBToY-8L0DeBOzwPa2TbKllhWkjqOtvcZttFkwMYk/s400/IMG_4117.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">or simply a diva. We know she'll be the very best of whatever she chooses. Until then, we're just going to enjoy every milestone along the way.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCJmJ0Q_tl1WYGW67DMW9zo6rc_LLI3kkmqVBp27nRwlk5Tn5SHPZebxYEWNs8JguPmf30zY_mO57vlGC9lTcfSvY0WeS6kmtS_z9JNczuVGqQK37d7l4mQlyckyif4PClD3lJnZebiX8/s1600-h/IMG_4212.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCJmJ0Q_tl1WYGW67DMW9zo6rc_LLI3kkmqVBp27nRwlk5Tn5SHPZebxYEWNs8JguPmf30zY_mO57vlGC9lTcfSvY0WeS6kmtS_z9JNczuVGqQK37d7l4mQlyckyif4PClD3lJnZebiX8/s400/IMG_4212.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Happy Birthday, my sweet Meggie. Please stop growing up so fast. My heart can't take it. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9URXWDj6psZrZWVouGqJVOlfukruvGj5Qv4aEKNcJb_GkFZk4IwrWtiMibO5s6yd6N0HQASC9-bnxbBf9QqdnnMxK3CQBiSfY7kx-fqwVcRA84okbLcbNzWt33eU2hF2Zqnd5OZcHloI/s1600-h/IMG_3467.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9URXWDj6psZrZWVouGqJVOlfukruvGj5Qv4aEKNcJb_GkFZk4IwrWtiMibO5s6yd6N0HQASC9-bnxbBf9QqdnnMxK3CQBiSfY7kx-fqwVcRA84okbLcbNzWt33eU2hF2Zqnd5OZcHloI/s400/IMG_3467.jpg" width="400" /></a> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Love for always and ever . . .</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Mommy</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div>

My Girl

Today my beautiful, darling daughter Margaret Grace turns eight. I'll try not to get too sappy or sentimental. But how can I not, really...

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