Maggie, my wonder monkey, my bluebaby muffin, it is hard to believe you are five years old. You are no longer our baby and won't be our preschooler for much longer. It's a momentous birthday.
The more you communicate, the more we are learn about the inner workings of your mind. We are just now discovering how sensitive you are to tags and lumps in your clothing. I hate to think you've been feeling that way for years and have just now learned to express it. I thoroughly enjoy and support your creative expression through your clothing choices, though: multiple colors and patterns in one outfit and shiny, glittery footwear. But I am disappointed that you only want a "small ponytail" in your hair every day. There are so many other options!
This fall, you astonished me by introducing yourself to an electrician who had come to our house. "What is your name? My name is Maggie, and this is my little brother Leo." I don't know who taught
I think your best friends are fictional: Maisy, Olivia, and Frances. I hear you "read" your books from memory during quiet time (hardly ever a napper anymore). But games and puzzles are starting to compete with book time. It is so convenient that you love learning activities like your number and rhyming puzzle pairs. And you've just learned about memory games. Your memory for the location of the matching tile is better than mine! Fortunately you have Papa Willie as your willing partner for Chutes and Ladders and CandyLand.
You have the most beautiful, rolling giggle. Movies and TV shows bring it out in you the most. Timon and Pumba, Olaf the Snowman and Sven the Reindeer. These are the characters that get you going more than any others.
Finally, after years of Daddy preference, I've got a little of you back. You even prefer me to Daddy at times. We are partners in the kitchen, and we both love to work with scissors and glue.
Tracing letters is still great fun, but I've seen you write your name
without any help. Granted, the letters did not proceed left to right,
but four out of six were recognizable! And now our porch floor is often adorned with chalk portraits. You have a strong attention to
detail if not a strong sense of shape representation. Your representations
have ears and foreheads and hair and knees (among the other common
features), but the ears and arms both sprout like whiskers from the
sides of the head. And the hair is limited to one scribble at the
tiptop. Utterly charming.
The sweetest moment of the day is our goodbye routine. Daddy has offered to walk out with you out to the schoolbus and bid you goodbye, but I'm the one you need. Every day you remind me to wave and blow kisses. So I walk to your side of the bus and furiously wave (both kinds of waving) and blow kisses until I can no longer see you. I suspect going to school still makes you nervous, but the predictability of this routine brings you comfort. I just love it. You'll probably have to ask me to stop some day.
Five years old! That puts Kindergarten on the horizon and all the anxiety of mainstream public education. Fortunately, you are spared that anticipation. And so far, your teachers seem to recognize the absolute treasure you are (you can tell when a teacher really loves a student), and you have two staunch and stubborn allies in your parents. There are mountains and mountains ahead of us, but you are our smart, brave girl, and isn't the view lovely?