The summer of seven and five. Total sweet spot.
Gone are my summer days of schlepping multiple bags, setting up camp in the fenced in baby pool area, leaving for nap time. Gone are the days of floaties and swim diapers and kids in two different summer stages, where you spend the entire golf lesson trying to entertain a toddler who just wants to go in the pool. Gone are the days with a schedule that absolutely can't be deviated from without severe repercussions, lasting several days, making every decision to see an outdoor evening concert or movie feel like a life changing choice.
The girls are busy and active and consumed with summer activities. Sure, we still need a lot of stuff. In fact, between the golf clubs, tennis racquets, swim gear, dance bags, and a different outfit requirement for each, we probably need more. But they can carry their own gear, dress themselves, and generally they're pretty responsible. I have gotten to sit and read an actual book, several times, this summer. It's amazing.
Madison is about to turn seven. She is reading on her own, and though she likes reading with me on occasion, she's happy to curl up with something she loves. She is definitely capable of playing on her own, and she loves it. She can make a basic breakfast and lunch for herself. She can do her own hair (as long as we're talking basics like ponytails and headbands).
Reagan is leaving behind all the vestiges of the little kid. She moved from a harness to a booster (and man, did we agonize over how and when to make that change). She loves to make her bed and arrange her stuffed animals. She can handle more responsibility.
They're growing up - there's no baby left. There's no toddler left. There's barely preschooler left. They're growing up and out. It's fabulous...but it's sad too.
Yet just when I'm mourning the loss of the squishy little bodies, they do something like crawl onto my lap, or ask me to read a favorite story. They still need me, and they still want to need me from time to time.
Every day they take another step away from babyhood and another step toward independence. With every little thing they're growing away from me, but every cuddle brings us back together.