She used to point to her picture on the wall and say "Baby!"
Now she says "Me!," pointing to my belly instead when someone asks her where the baby is.
Her babyness pulled the wool over my eyes.
It blinded me from the reality of her growing up.
Somtime during our countless slumber parties -- our 2am arguments over what blanket in which order like I'm pulling the arm of a slot machine hoping to hit the right combination like a jackpot -- she changed.
Happy Birthday, Margot. My heart. And my very swollen eyes.