Eleven. I know, right? She's eleven.
Just when I thought I was pretty good at being a parent to little kids...they grow up.
She didn't want anything this year, except a party. A trampoline party. And a limo. And a park. Eleven: Somewhere between little kid and big kid. Between trampolines and stretch limos and climbing trees. Which is a great place to be!
Happy Birthday. Baby Girl. I love you so much.