She’s got his eyes and my anxiety.
Lola is eight. EIGHT! I remember the moment she was born. I expected my first thought to be, “I am overwhelmed by the love, this is a perfect moment, this is all they said it would be!” Instead, I distinctly remember thinking, “I love this little person, WOW that hurt, and I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I’M DOING.”
Lola taught us how to be parents and to take care of her. She continues to teach us every single day. Lola has inherited Penn’s long lean stature, his eyes, and musical talent. From me? An obsession with sweets and anxiety. For that, I would like to formally apologize to my daughter. She spent most of her eighth birthday party worried about who to play with for fear of offending the others. Sigh.
Happy Birthday, my sweet, sensitive girl.
P.S. Like her mother, cake and pizza solved all problems. She was a very happy birthday girl!