Happy birthday, sweet girl.

Our baby turns eight years old this weekend. Eight!

It seems like just yesterday I heard the doctor say "It's a GIRL!" and my world changed forever. We hadn't found out the sex of the baby because we wanted to be surprised, and were we ever. I had convinced myself I was having another boy. I was fine with that. Prepared for it, even. A little brother for Sammy would be pretty cool. I imagined myself saying "the boys" when referring to our children. I grew up with two brothers and was already raising a boy of my own; I could do this.

But it was a girl. Our Rachel. And I was so ecstatic I didn't know how to react. I kept saying, "I can't believe it's a girl" every few minutes. I said it so many times one of the nurses finally asked me if that was OK. I assured her it was fabulous and that I was just so surprised. Our world of trucks and tanks and Bob The Builder suddenly exploded with pink and butterflies and ribbons and all kinds of girlie stuff. What fun!

I consider it a privilege that Steve and I have been able to love and nurture this beautiful girl from the day we knew we would be blessed with a second child. She is truly an amazing kid. She is bright and independent and sensitive and determined and full of faith. She's daddy's girl, yet I see so much of myself in her. I adore her even on the days when she has no problem telling me how much she dislikes me. I look forward to the years ahead and watching Rachel become a young woman and go out into the world and fulfill her dreams. Especially that part about going out into the world, but that's mostly on those days when she's determinedly asserting her independence.

Happy birthday, baby. We love you.