Dear Princess,
I cannot believe that today you are five years old. I can’t believe I have a five year old – and I can’t believe that time if flying by so quickly. I remember the day you were born and it sure doesn’t feel like that day was five years ago – but, here we are, on the day of your fifth birthday. You’re outside with Daddy right now – you have on your new bathing suit from Grandma and Grandpa and you’re splashing around in your wading pool and blowing bubbles with the massive bottle of bubbles you just received. This morning, Grandpa drove you and Pumpkin in the parade: he’s really been wanting to drive you in a parade for a long time (but don’t worry, he’s already said “never again” – he was sort of hoping you guys would find it more fun, and I don’t think he was enthused either!).
This past year has been amazing. Since I’ve been home and you’ve started going to a preschool instead of daycare, we’ve spent lots more time together. We have a lot of good days – and we have the occasional “off” day. Some days I’m cranky, some days you are — or the double whammy: we both are. But, we muddle through. I love you so much and I love hanging out with you. It’s amazing how grown up you are becoming. I would say to people, “She’s four going on 20!” You would get this look on your face (like, duh, mom), and say, “Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiive.” As if I don’t know exactly how old you are. Silly goose.
You’re a little fashionista sometimes – which scares me, because so help me, when the time comes, I’m not going to be able to tell you how to put make up on or any of that. You like skirts, flip flops and spaghetti straps. After your dance recital a few weeks ago, you wore your recital costume and tap shoes all day the following day.
You are starting to read! You amaze me how you are sounding words out. Just an hour ago, we were watching “Hannah Montana” on TV (it’s your current favorite) and you were telling me what the signs the audience members were holding said. Holy cow.
You are a loving kid. You are getting good at telling me you’re sorry when you have a bad day (and get loud with me). You are getting good at not having temper tantrums (thank goodness). You are expressive, and articulate, and amazing.
You are going to do amazing things. You already do. I love you so much, Poodle. I’m going to close this letter now, because we’re taking you and your sister out for ice cream to celebrate your day.
I love you with my whole heart, and I am so very lucky to be your mommy.
Love,
Mom
Speak Your Mind