So... I Have a Five-Year-Old

Dear Myla,

     Today you turned five.  It feels like a weird day because it's special but also completely ordinary in every way.  It feels HUGE, but it also just feels like Tuesday.  Five years seems like we have arrived at a milestone of sorts. There are days when I pick you up and think, "Man, she's so tall and heavy!" or photos where I realize your face looks like a big kid face instead of a baby.
   
     Your dad and I bit the bullet and had a party, because we always want to try and make you feel special even though it goes against our grinchy personalities.  And you know what? It was fun.  You painted canvases, decorated cookies, and played with your friends.  We sat back and enjoyed the company of loved ones who have been alongside us every step of the way in your life.

     Today, we all went to see the Peanuts Movie because I sometimes make poor decisions.  Let's just say that a 10:00am movie on a Tuesday is the way to GO when we are forced to bring along your little brother. We had popcorn and frozen yogurt for lunch.  (I'm sending in my "Mother of the Year" application right after I finish this post.)

[Movie time!]

 [Birthday trip to Menchies]

      

[Halloween Sass]

[Porch swing fun in Tennessee]

 [Zoo trip with the Stacys]

[One of my blessed reminders that you are still little.]

          As you keep growing older, I am faced with the reality that you are your own person.  We have moved past the survival stage of parenting to the big stuff.  (And let me tell you, I stretched out that "just keep her alive!" stage for as long as humanly possible).

     You are coming into your own this year.  You are acting with boldness that we haven't experienced before.  One small step at a time, you are becoming brave.  You started sitting in the front row during Story Time at the library. You touched a snake at the zoo. You LOVE school. And way late in the game, I finally taught you to wipe your own butt (Praise Him). You still don't love to talk to strangers or practice polite small talk, but you are in your element when you have your little siblings to protect.  

     Myla, I am thankful that God gave you to us.  He has used you to show us His grace time and time again.  Side story: early in the school year, your teacher emailed me about a behavioral issue you had in class one day.  You talked back to her and had an attitude about something.  I was mortified (and subsequently confronted with my "fear of man" issue).  After that, we started praying in the car together before we walk into the school building.  One day, Grandma was with us, and we were in a bit of a rush, and I was wondering to myself whether we should just skip it.  

     "Mom, are we going to pray?!" you asked me.  Talk about conviction. 

     My prayer for you is that you would come to know Jesus.  My prayer is that God would fill in the holes where your dad and I are lacking.  I pray that you remember the days where I am here for you and loving you well and forget the moments where I screw it all up.

     This parenting gig is hard.

     ... and fun.

     ...and I'm glad you're mine.

Love, 

Mom