My youngest (the Clover) turned seven yesterday. Seven. It seems like only a few days ago, I was trying to fit my very pregnant belly into a student desk during a grade level meeting at another school (you know the kind where the chair and the tabletop are connected so there's no scooching). She wasn't a baby for very long (even though we called her Baby for a long time). As soon as she entered school (parochial preschool for starters) it was as though someone hit the fast forward button.
Nothing brings home that fact that your baby isn't a baby anymore like looking at her with eyeshadow on. The Clover, much to the chagrin of her dad, got her first makeup set last night (good call Aunt B, it is a big hit!). She was all about trying it out. Before the night was over, she had on more eyeshadow than is appropriate for anyone and every shade of lipgloss in the kit. It made me want to cry because I know that gone are tea parties with the stuffed animals and playdough pizza making. I am just waiting for her to ask me to get her ears pierced. I wonder how old a girl has to be before she can enter the convent?
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