Five Years

Five years ago today, I found out I was going to be a Mama ... what an amazing & unexpected five years they've been. That kid rocks the universe right off its hinges. This week, she went next door on her scooter to see their cats, and eat their snacks. Her babysitter wasn't even home ... just wanted to visit. The neighbor said, "I haven't seen her since she turned 4 ... but she sure talks. A LOT."

Five years. I remember what I was wearing. Due date 11/27. Feeling bad about the two beers I had the night before when we were watching Sweet 16 games. Maybe that's why she talks so much.

She's seriously so bright. Her memory floors me. She's compassionate. Lippy. Intentional. Dramatic. Sweet. Helpful. She wants to set the table each night. Her & I went on a solo bike ride for the first time last night. She'd SLAM on her brakes, hold her hand up and say, "MOM WAIT. WE NEED TO TALK," then she'd pick a random subject. Like she can't bike & talk at the same time. Well, she probably can't.

Five years. Oh, man. She won't stop talking about Kindergarten. She is going to OWN that bus, for the 1.9 mile ride she has to take. I hope they let us bus her, she'll be crushed if there's an under-radius rule for busing and she's declared exempt. But I'll find a way to get her tiny tushie on a bus her first day of school even if I have to rent one for $1,000 dollars because I'm her Mama and making her dreams come true is my one and only mission in life.

She sings the melodies and hooks to songs barely audible in the background of everyday. She's a marketing department's dream come true. She loves jingles and slogans and wants the UPS Logistics song available on her iPod. She favors her stuffed animals with perpetual sadness stitched onto their faces, because she thinks she makes them happy by loving them. And oh, does she ever. She adores headbands and strong, glittery nail polish that holds. We're currently scouring the planet for plastic bobcats ... of the nature variety, not the farm implement variety simply because she needs one. My girl needs a bobcat.

In all honesty, I didn't think she'd be the only offspring living under our roof as she neared five years old. Who ever thinks that? I am trying to relax into that now. A hell of a lot easier said than done. I'm trying to ease into only having one child for fear I'll suffocate her with love and adoration. I want to buy her icy lemonades each and everyday, while finding the plastic horses she doesn't own, while simultaneously promising annual trips to DisneyWorld, and dressing her in expensive, vintage skirts because she's all I've got.

She's all I've got and she's everything.

Five years ... five perfect, sparkly, sticky, bright yellow years full of Starbucks and Orange basketball and endless Target perusing and chocolate iced cake donuts and sleeping and remembering and blowing up knucks.

My one, my only ... Mama loves.
So, so much.