Dear Miss C:
I have started this post, deleted it, started writing again and then posted just a photo. Decided that was lame, hit delete, and then gone back to a clean slate.
For some reason, five seems so much older than four. Three is just out of toddlerhood’s reach. And four still seems so little. But five? Five is the year you start school. Add five more years and you’ll be ten. Add five more years to that and you’ll be a teenager.
My sweet girl you are at an amazing age! You have a heart of gold. You are loving, compassionate, gullible, funny, inquisitive, sincere, and imaginative. I love to see you playing contentedly with your toys, making up fantastic scenarios, and acting out little mini melodramas on the coffee table. I love to see you interacting with Miss A. Well, except for when you bicker. I could do without the bickering. Also, the high-pitched shrieking is not my favorite thing, either. It gives me flashbacks to those few days I went through sorority rush in college and then dropped out.
Despite your increasing fondness for all things frilly, sparkly, and twirly, you are very sensible. Today you told me that you couldn’t have cupcakes at your pizza party because we’d had birthday cupcakes last night. I explained that the pizza parlor is making a whole new batch of cupcakes on Saturday but you told me that that would be too much sugar and you’d get a tummy ache. Just help mommy out by finishing the cupcakes from last night’s cookout because I just ate two of them for lunch, OK?
Yesterday Miss A woke us up bright and early, before 6 a.m. The three of us sat in our pjs on her tousled bed and you told us that we could have some of your leftover birthday cake and that Miss A could have the Little Mermaid bracelet that comes on the cake…the bracelet you’ve talked about for weeks after you saw a picture of the cake at the bakery.
You love animals and all living things down to the tiniest insect. I’ve never seen someone so genuinely concerned about the well being of God’s smallest creatures, from lightning bugs to wayward baby birds. You love to pick flowers for everyone you know, from your friends to your teachers. The other night I scolded you too harshly for picking a bright pink flower from one of the pots on the patio because I’d just planted them. You handed it to me and looked up and said, “It’s for you mama.” Oh, my girl. A million times a day you fill my heart up until it overflows.
Happy 5th birthday sweet girl. Thank you for constantly reminding me what is important in this crazy world.
You’ll always be my baby.