Today, Kylie turned 8. I suppose if I wanted to get really picky about it I could say she'll turn 8 at 9PM tonight. But I don't. At 9PM we'll be setting off the last of the fireworks and getting them ready to go to the movie. My sweet Rose; when did we come so far?
Kylie was beautiful from birth. Seriously. She had such a beautiful face, perfect baby body and adorable toes. Not much hair, for a long time, but simply beautiful nonetheless. Actually I have to back track a little. We have a print out of her ultrasound where they've highlighted her face and even from that you can tell this is a beautiful child. So, Kylie was beautiful since BEFORE her birth.
She had no fear until she turned 5 and figured out stuff could actually hurt. This girl would hurl herself headlong into just about everything. She'd walk right up to the scariest dog, try to pet the mangiest cat--it didn't matter. She had a black eye at age 3. I can't even remember why.
Because she was the long anticipated girl (she has a sister almost 10 yrs older and 3 older brothers), Kylie got spoiled. Everyone doted on her. Everyone bought her pretty dresses and girlie toys--for me it was the novelty of being able to do this. Because of our failings in her earliest years, Kylie is a bit of a snot. She can be wonderfully adorable and kind and sweet, but cross her and out come the claws. And her little sister has the marks to prove it. She's got a temper; I think it's God's way of illustrating, at least in part, how I was at her age.
But Kylie's still my beautiful Rose. I adore her and am constantly knocked off my feet by her bright smile or her sweet nature. I just want to say that dang, did I ever get lucky!
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