Tonight, my 7 (almost 8) year old daughter asked me to start a countdown to her birthday. She can't wait for her big day next month. I totally get it; I remember feeling the same way when I was her age. My birthday was the highlight of my year. The presents, the attention, the cake; it was all so exciting.
One of my favorite parts of "my" day was dinner. My mom would always let me choose my favorite meal and would make it, no questions asked, even if it contained little to no vegetables.
As I've gotten older, birthdays have changed. Most years it feels like any other day with some extra Facebook messages and texts thrown in. It's still a sweet day but in a much less obvious way.