Happy Maguary

My oldest daughter turns 10 this month. Allow me to introduce you to Maggie.
I tend not to post a lot of pictures of her--not on purpose, but I think subconsciously I fear an internet weirdo will fall in love with her. She is very beautiful. We are not, actually, very much alike--at least not when I was age 10. She is well-liked, advanced in school, in style, graceful, cool. I was none of those things. I would probably have been a little jealous of her if I had known her in 4th grade, but I think we would have been friends anyway. She would have been good for me. She's good for me now. She is like her father, Christian, who is also good for me. If it were just me and Sam, we'd sit at home never talking to anyone and never doing anything except making playlists and watching X-Files.

She is named after my great grandmother, Margaret Jackson. Mostly she goes by Maggie, but at home we sometimes call her Marge. Of course, Ben calls her Eddie Overwide. As for why he calls her this, I don't know. From a very young age Maggie has been indispensable to me. She is extremely sensitive and when I am at the edge of my rope (manifest by lots of sighing) she takes care of Ben and Ellen. Sometimes it makes me feel like a bad mom to let her, but then I tell myself she must have learned it from me so that makes me a good mom and I shut the door and turn on the TV.

10 Things About Maggie Who Will be 10 in 13 Days

She has impeccable taste. This trait can be learned, but in Maggie it is innate.

She loves to eat out.

She loves eavesdropping. (I guess she is like me.)

She is usually grumpy in the morning. (I guess she is like me.)

She is becoming obsessed with dogs. (I guess she is like me.)

She is clever.

She pays attention to people.

She has olive skin.

She can eat a pound of burrito from Del Taco.

Her impressions of people are spot on.

We will be celebrating Maggie all month here at my house so please feel free to send her some thoughtful, handmade, unique gifts! I don't see why she is any less-deserving than any of the Pioneer Woman's or Dooce's kids. (I know, right?)