I was in the middle of the post-holiday clean-up chaos when something hit me.
My oldest daughter is seven, and while it feels like an age that doesn’t get talked about much, it really is turning out to be such a sweet spot.
It hit me as we were redesigning her room. A change that occurred when she broke my mama-heart a few weeks prior by saying she didn’t think she wanted a princess room anymore. While everything in me wanted to try to convince her to keep it, stay small and sweet just a little longer, I knew I needed to give her this space to show a little independence.
She decided on a Lilo and Stitch theme, which felt like a very happy middle ground. Still Disney. Still “characters.” Still cute-ish. But also a little bit of an evolution to match her—a little less “cartoonish” and a little more grown. Just like she is becoming.
When I looked at her bookcase (still a pretty, pink dollhouse) and saw her “special” books that she chose to display in front—Zombies and Bluey—that’s when it really hit me, this sweet spot we are in.
Somewhere between the Zombies and the Bluey. Still young enough to find comfort in a family show about a silly little blue dog, but old enough to want to go around the house singing songs about a fictional zombie character. Young enough to still enjoy a picture book, yet old enough to curl up in her little tent with a chapter book.
Still young enough to believe in Santa and the magic of Christmas, but old enough to request Home Alone on repeat. The sweet spot where our Christmas list consisted of a new toy cash register and a Magic 8 Ball. Where the closest we got to Sephora or Ulta was a request for flavored Chapstick and some new hair clips.
While it was a little clearer to see during the holiday season, we see it in our daily lives too—a little girl itching for some space and independence, but who still climbs into Mom and Dad’s bed every morning (or middle of the night), without fail. Who wants to wear a cute crossbody bag filled with scrunchies and lip gloss, but also wants to be wearing it for a lunch date with her little family.
It’s a sweet spot where she is still obsessed with her baby sister and playing “family” with her friends. Where she is running around the schoolyard with an imagination just as wild as she is. But there’s a new mix. It’s no longer just pretend play of princesses. She’s not just making up imaginary worlds anymore; she’s making up dance routines and tumble combinations to perform with friends. Some days she’s swinging, some days she’s singing, and some days she’s just sitting and talking to her bestie.
She’s picking out her own outfits but still looking to me for confirmation. She’s asking to have her hair done every morning, but tying it up with a sparkly scrunchy or bow. She’s living in her cute fur boots but couldn’t care less that they are Target brand and not Uggs. She has “Stanleys” galore, but they are covered in cute patterns and fun themes.
It’s a bittersweet spot. We still see the little girl in her every single day, but we are also getting a glimpse of the grown one heading our way. We are watching her play with her friends and thinking about how she’ll be asking for trips to the mall instead of the playground before we know it. We see her begging her baby sister to play with her, knowing it’s only a matter of time before she’s begging her to leave her (and her stuff) alone. We see both the Bluey and the Zombie in her.
So for now, we’re soaking it all in, this perfect blend of sweet and sassy. A little silly and a little serious. A little space and a little snuggle. The sweet spot of being 7.
by Samantha Krieger 
by Kris Ann Valdez 
by Jenni Brennan 
