six.

Today, my baby girl turns six years old. Six. She's whip-smart and funny like her dad. She can be a quiet little thing, but when she wants to make her voice heard, you'll hear her. She's a ballerina and wants to start a band someday. She lost her first tooth two days ago. 

My good friend, Yana, took these photos of Lo a few months ago and I love how she documented my girl, being herself... being five. Five is a year when a lot happens. Big changes. She's turning into a big kid, whether I like it or not. I am acutely aware of how fast she's growing. In the blink of an eye, her feet and legs are a mile long. Her ballet shoes are too tight. Her grin has a missing tooth. I look at her and I'm painfully aware that she's no longer the size she was last week. She's reading books and solving math problems and making her own breakfast. She challenges me every single day. But I swear, just a moment ago I was holding her on my lap on an icy cold February morning, breathing in that wonderfully sweet baby hair smell and snuggling with her in her tiny pink newborn-sized jammies.

My girl. How did you grow up so fast? Six years ago, you initiated us a parents. And brought the magic. You still do, every day. Happy birthday to my girl.