I don't remember being seven. I can say though with some degree of certainty that as a seven year old I likely crimped my hair, collected jelly bracelets, yearned to be some version of the 'Material Girl', and still played with my cabbage patch doll.
And now my daughter is seven. She has already figured out her own 'style', speaks with authority and confidence in all things concerning her little brother, and takes on each day systematically and with intention.

She is the sunshine in my day and I cherish her old soul. Happy Birthday Belle. Twirl on!
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