The girl turns 5.

(This post is one month late. Just pretend it's July 19th)

5 years ago today I left early in the morning headed for Portland Adventist Hospital. I knew my life was about to change and it was one surreal moment, that is for sure.  We got in, signed all the forms, then began the process--water breaking, contractions, epidural (loved it!), and finally at 5:15 on a hot summer afternoon baby Molly made her arrival. And she was such a pretty baby with her black spiky hair, big cheeks, and bright red lips. That moment eclipsed any that had come before--aside from the moment I looked into Bryan's eyes on our first date at the counter of the bowling alley standing in line for shoes. That one was a doozy, which makes sense, because without that moment, I wouldn't be having this one, or all the ones between then and now that make up this little girl's life.

So 5 years later, and now she is a girl--not a toddler, not a baby, a real girl with long legs and tangly hair and her own taste in clothes and a wicked sense of humor. A girl who will be starting kindergarten and playing soccer and who gets dressed by herself and can pour her own cereal and milk. When I saw her for the first time in the hospital I just didn't comprehend that I could love her any more than at that moment, but somehow it happens.

Can I please just stop time and keep her at this age forever?  Please?