Stop Growing

I am avoiding doing some work right now, so it is best to do something else instead. Like blog! Because I know that people are really missing my thoughts.

My baby turned five. That is amazing... and I guess that I can say that she is not my actual baby because she is my oldest. My real baby, the youngest, turned three a few months ago.

Every year, I write a letter to my babies on their birthday. And I have not written Andrea's yet. She will be five and one month in the next few days and I have not written her letter yet. I love the letters to be full of my thoughts, what I have seen each child do over the past year and even my hopes and wishes. But right now, I have only one thing to say to Andrea. "STOP" Just stop growing, stop getting older, just stop. I am not ready for her to be five, not yet. I fell in love with her at birth and right when I thought it was no longer possible to love her more, she became two. At two she became a big sister, she was a giving and loving and amazing big sister. This made me love her even more. And then she became three, oh my goodness, she developed and blossomed into this amazingly smart little child. She started preschool and blew me away, it was hard at first, she was REAL shy, but she worked through it, gain confidence and then just started to learn and learn and learn. She is such a good learner, she scares me... in a good way. And then she became four. I loved her at four, she was smart, and had just the right amount of sass to her. You know the funny kind, but also knew when to stop with it just by the look on my face. I loved her arguments. One time, she told me that I did not get a say in teh matter because I was not the boss. God was the boss. Of me and of her. So God got a say. (I laughed once I calmed down) See, the right amount of sass. She is thoughtful, considerate and kind. And then she turned five.

Now don't panic. She did not grow a second head or anything. She just turned five. And she stopped being four. She gets herself dressed now. She gets her self out of bed and was playing in the front room, because she was big enough to be up by herself. She gets her own snack down from the cupboard. She rides a bike and she tells me "no mom, I can do it by myself, I need to learn how."

I am not ready for this. I am just not ready for her to do or be any of this.

I feel like I have handled my crazy year well. I have done so with humor and dignity.

But I am not handling this. So, I did what any good mom would do, I told her to stop growing and that she was grounded until she agreed. And she said what any good five year old would say. "Mom, you better like five because I will be six really soon and then what."

Just the right amount of sass.

So, I did the next best thing, I told my three year old to be three for a while and she of course said, "I too bizsy, I big girl, I not baby no more." She has a little more than the right amount of sass, she has all of the sass! I will not be sad when she turns five, I will be scared. But I have time.

I will not talk about how old I will be this year. I refuse to talk about it, think about it or even accept it. Let's just say, that I am youthful in my thinking and energy.

Steve and I will be celebrating our 10 year anniversary this year. This I will talk about. This is fun. I don't know what we are going to do, can't really afford to do anything, but stare lovingly into eachother's eyes and recite words of love and longing to eachother. And then drink beer and watch hockey. You know both of our dream nights.

so, I asked Steve if we should have a third child. And he said that we should. Because he said "every man who is unemployed, can't find a job, struggling to pay our bills and still recovering from an accident in which he broke both of his legs should take on a third child. Clearly it is the right time for our family."

Did I mention that I think Sassiness is inherited?