To my beautiful, bouncy Bee on her birthday.

To my sweetest, dearest Bee-babygirl,

 

Today, sweetheart, you are finally five. You are wonderfully, beautifully, fantastically five and my heart is so full of love and laughter and excitement for you that I can hardly breathe around all the feelings you make bubble up. You are so excited about growing up and I have to say: you’re here. You’re a Big Kid. Even better – You’re You.

 

It’s true, Bee. You are more than just a Big Kid. You might whine because you think your big sister gets all the attention and all the glory of being Bigger and Older and (in your mind at least) always More Than You, but I think that is because she is just more defined than you. Gracie is Gracie, The Dramatic Older Child. You, my beautiful Bee-Baby, you contain multitudes. You are my fabulous five-year-old laughing and giggling conspiratorially with your chums before your Pre-K graduation and then you are pitching a fit because I dared to tell you it was bedtime. You are my court jester and my dramatist and my helper child and the one who stalls and masterfully manipulates the situation so you don’t have to clean. You are my child who refuses to be pinned to a single personality. And great googly moogly how I love you for it, dear heart.

 

I love the way you try on different selves and incorporate them all into your different Bees. I love the way you keep me guessing to see who you’re going to be each day, each hour, each minute. You might exasperate me from time to time, and it might be easier if you would just pick a style and GO WITH IT so I would know how to parent you always, but gosh you make loving you so much more fun because of all the work I put into it. Truth be told, I am a little envious of the way you approach life, refusing to shrink the world, your experiences or even yourself. Certainly, you don’t shrink you attitude for any one or any thing!

 

Yes, there are still pieces of Baby-Bee and Todder Bee lurking in your behaviors. I’ve come to realize this year that that’s just how you’re always going to be. You’re the baby of the family and your big sister and I simply adore you – of course you’re going to milk that a little! But I’ve also noticed how easily you adjust yourself to meet any occasion. You need to act like a Big Kid to fit in when you move into the Schoolers’ Room? No problem! You talk about music and friends and all manner of things so easily that I wonder if you aren’t turning 8 or 9. Hanging with the Pre-Ks today? Fine – well you can shrink yourself and play house and argue at the sand station, too. You’re my chameleon, little one, having fun and getting the most out of every situation you can. You’ve reminded me of a very valuable lesson, Bee – I need to treat you how I’d like you to act. And you know what? You always give me your all.

 

Yes, you’ve arrived. Or, rather, you’ve made us all meet you where you were all along. Your sister made a splash when she arrived in The Land of Five; The Land of Big Kidville. Not you – you made us all run over to where you were. You moved the action and showed us that you were here this whole time – we’ve just been looking in all the wrong places, trying to see you through a different lens.

 

In short, you’re brilliant, Bee. You know yourself. You know people. And you know how to pull the strings of the world to machinate all sorts of fun. You have a yard of guts, but even more will power. If you don’t want to do something, you ain’t gonna – but if you make up your mind to do something, look out opposition because good lord you will kill yourself trying.

 

Yes, you have a lot of fun that way – being oblivious to the rest. Oblivious to the cheesestick wrappers you lay around, oblivious to the markers littering the floor after your art masterpieces are complete (oblivious even to me throwing away the markers because you left them out), oblivious to the Barbie and dollhouse debris that litters the floor when you insist the room is picked up. You’re a tour de fun cycloning through the house, just as a kid your age should be. As you always have been. And as you always will be. The only thing you’re not oblivious to, oh beautiful Bee-girl, is when you feel you’ve been slighted. Then everything best move to a soundproof room because lord, we’re gonna hear about it. You immediately start crying and then you tattle, and then you declare it’s NOT FAIR that Gracie is always going to be two years older than you, or that she gets an iPod (never mind that I’ve promise you one when you turn seven, oh no), and that Gracie gets to take medicine (!?!), and that Gracie had friends over last time, or she had a sleepover, and, and, and… The list is long and – I am sure – very thorough. You love your “stister” so much you want to be exactly like her, and that is hard when she is very much different from you, never mind two whole years older.

 

You’ll get there, Bee. And sooner rather than later – you’re growing so fast already! I’m enjoying watching you grow and rediscovering who you are, every day. Because every day you’re a new You. I love my ever-changing Bee-girl. I love that you make me feel I’m parenting so many more children than just two (no matter how many times you make me sigh – really). You make me wish I was a kid again so I could run and laugh and join you on all of the adventures you conjure up. You’re that fun to watch! Instead I’ll just cheer you on from the sidelines and supply you with cheesesticks and gum and tic-tacs and I’ll hold your Bear and be your safety-gools every time you need me.

 

I love you, Bee-girl. I’m so flippin’ proud you chose me to be your superhero and let me in on some of your fun. And I promise I will always, always be here for all of it and all of you – no matter how large your life is. I can tell already it’s going to be epic.

 

Love,

Mommy

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Tags: birthdays