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Happy 5th Birthday, baby big girl

Today she is 5. An age she’s been counting down to be…“Am I 5 tomorrow? Or the next day after the next day after the next day?”

Flynn at 5

Flynn at 5

Five is a milestone, in many ways, for both of us.

For me, I’m that much older and removed from the baby making phase of my life. That ship, long sailed.

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For me, it’s not only watching but letting you do your own thing, like your hair styles. You no longer want me to put your hair in pigtails and forget about bangs. You told me (didn’t ask) you were growing “these things long” when you were barely 3.

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For me, it’s often buying new shoes because you outgrow them faster than you wear them, and missing the times when I not only couldn’t keep socks or shoes on your tiny, tiny feet, but you didn’t need them because I mostly carried you.

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For me, it’s relishing each moment you gain more independence, but wishing for the moments when you needed only me.

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For me, it’s realizing that while you will always be the baby of the family, you are now such a big girl.

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For you, it’s excitement over starting Kindergarten soon, and doing your own homework.

For you, it’s about being “big”, and faster and stronger to keep up with your brother and being “big” like him.

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For you, it’s about being the same age as your best friends from school.

For you, it’s about the birthday crown your teacher made, the cupcakes and pink pancakes I made you for breakfast, the Barbie fashion show dress up singing and dancing birthday party.

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For you, it’s not just instinctively knowing what you want; be it to wear, accessorize, eat, listen to, read, learn, but being able to express those wants clearly and be understood.flynn5

Five is a milestone, in many ways, but for both of us, no matter how old, wise, big, smart, sassy, or far away you are, you will always be my baby, my little shadow.

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So today you are 5. And we celebrate you.

Happy birthday to my favorite girl in all the land. I love you, love you, love you, baby doll.

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gingerbreadmama

Wordful Wednesday: injuries but not on my watch

I went out of town (Sundance Film Festival, it was awesome and I’ll post pictures and recap later) and while I was gone I got a phone call from my kid’s school. Little Miss had bumped her head while playing with a friend and had a red mark on her forehead but was otherwise fine. Ok, great, not much I could do being that I was in Utah and all. A few hours later, the school called again to inform me that Fussypants had a mark under his eye, the teacher hadn’t seen what happened and he said it didn’t hurt but they deduced that a friend must have bumped him while playing outside. Again, relief, as I was in freaking UTAH. My folks were picking the kids up that day, so I told them what to expect so they would not be alarmed and sure enough, my mom called to let me know that Fussypants did indeed have a shiner and Little Miss did indeed have a red mark on her forehead. But Fussypants let me know that her hair covered it so you couldn’t really see it.

When I got home on Sunday, hunky hubby told me that Little Miss had taken a digger and cut her lip. Fussypants informed me there was blood.

On Monday, we figured that we’d better get Little Miss a passport and renew Fussypant’s (his expired on his 5th birthday) so we could take them with us on our Mexico vacation in March, being a family vacation and all.

After I had the photos taken, I realized they will, for the next five years, look like prizefighters with the cut lip and black eye.

Awesome.

In these pics, the shiner and cut lip are hard to see (circled), but in the real pics, you can tell!

Written for Wordful Wednesday. Play along here: Parenting BY Dummies

gingerbreadmama

Turning FIVE & getting to be “only-child” for a few hours

Fussypants is five years old. Yesterday was his birthday. I still can’t believe it. Five. 5, cinco, 5, fünf.

Crap.

Am I old enough to have an almost Kindergartner?

Ok, don’t answer that.

He had an amazing birthday, mostly because he was so excited to be 5. Seriously excited. Beyond seriously excited. I could have thrown mud at him and he’d still have had a good day. He told me that “5 is his favorite number and now he gets to be it”.

Isn’t that funny?

I started a tradition on his first birthday, of filling up his crib with balloons, then his room when he moved out of the crib. He woke up an hour earlier than normal and squealed in delight when he saw the balloons. I love that I can make him happy with something as simple as using my excess hot air (and I gave myself a headrush rush too. Bonus).

Taken at 6:33 am, because someone was too excited to sleep in, even though it was a holiday.

We had a hockey game the night of his birthday and he politely requested that his baby sister stay with Nana and Grandpa instead of going to the game so that he could sit on my lap, “because his sister never lets him sit on my lap” (such a little thing, to sit on mommy’s lap. I guess I need to be better at making one-on-one time with him).

My parents (the Nana and Grandpa of the aforementioned Nana and Grandpa) are amazing and didn’t hesitate to say Little Miss could spend the night with them. Seriously, beyond amazing. So we obliged his request and just the three of us went to the game. He had so much fun with my hubby and I because we could each hold a hand and lift him in the air (again, such a little thing but made him so happy). He very much enjoyed that all our attention was focused on him.

Getting hot chocolate before the hockey game. Nana gave him the sticker on his hat.

He was on a birthday high almost until midnight. The game went into overtime, then a shootout and by the time we got home and got him to bed it was close to 11pm. But it’s all good because he enjoyed every minute of his birthday. And in the wisdom of like mother, like son, he pulled the “it’s my birthday” phrase out several times. “I’m wearing sweatpants to the hockey game, because it’s my birthday”. “I’m having a corn dog and fries for lunch, because it’s my birthday”.

I Love It.

I’m a fan of birthdays because if you were never born, you’d never live so why not make the most of the YOUR day? And why just the day? Why not celebrate all week, or even all month? Birthdays are a season, are they not?

So, along that vein, I had a special treat for Fussypants this morning. I had bought a cake and a #5 candle but we didn’t get around to having any because of the hockey game, so I sang to him this morning and he blew out the candle and made a wish.

Yes, he got to eat a tiny piece for breakfast.

And at school today he got to wear an awesome dinosaur crown his teacher made for him and we brought cupcakes to share, since school was closed yesterday and I would have kept him home anyway because nobody should have to go to school on their birthday.

The cupcakes almost caused an issue but we sorted it out. He really wanted cupcakes with Lightning McQueen and Dinoco rings on them but the store (school policy, no homemade food for birthdays) didn’t have them so he settled for Thor rings. There were three different rings on the cupcakes and he told me he really wanted the hammer. So I said that he should get that one then and he said, “We are not allowed to throw a fit, we get what we get”. Clearly there has been cupcake infighting issues in the past in his classroom.

I can only hope he witnessed the fit, and wasn’t the one throwing it. 

So I told his teacher about his desire for the hammer ring, and she assured me the birthday boy would get first pick. Phew.

Due to the fact that the date of his birthday is kind of crappy, and the closest weekend this time around happened to be New Year’s Eve and New Years Day, we are not having his party until next Saturday. So he kind of gets to celebrate all week, because at school tomorrow they go to Chapel and that’s when they’ll sing Happy Birthday and he’ll get to pick a birthday bear or necklace (or so he tells me).

See, Birthday Season.

Fussypants says a lot of things that make me laugh but yesterday he said two things that made it into his Quotables book, so I’ll share. While walking into the hockey game he exclaimed, “Dude, someone just gave me a flat tire and I didn’t even know them” and when driving home he told us of this very elaborate play date he wants me to set-up with some of his buddies, to play street hockey. He was so detailed in the events that will transpire that I asked him, “Have you really thought this through or are you making it up on the fly?” and he responded, “I’m making it through”.

That’s my boy. My 5 year old boy. Making it through.

gingerbreadmama