I don’t want to let October go by without addressing the emotionally confusing fact that my girl has turned five. F-I-V-E.
On one hand, watching her learn new things every day is seriously the thrill of my life. When they’re toddlers, sometimes you feel like you’re throwing knowledge down into the abyss, do you know what I mean? I’ve sung the ABCs a gazillion times with Bo, and somehow he still thinks it starts ABCDAFG. Will not be convinced otherwise.
But my big girl– she remembers almost everything, and I can see her little brain wheels turning all the time. I can’t wait to see her turn into a student and find out what it will be that excites her. The suspense!! It kills the teacher in me.
On the other hand, I am so not ready for her to grow up. Like when she uses her hands to talk, or when she bends down and speaks gently to her baby brother, or when she declares, I don’t have to be like my four-year-old self. I love all of those things, but I know this is only the top of the slippery slope into eye rolling and too-cool-for-schoolery.
If you had asked me three years ago what I thought about my girl aspiring to be a ballerina princess fairy when she grows up, I probably would have vomited in my mouth. But now, on the verge of real live big-kidhood, a ballerina princess fairy sounds lovely and sensible, like girl who will never leave her mama.
And that sounds pretty good, too.