Five

Can it really be five years ago? Five years ago that I met you?

So much as happened, wee one. To you, to us, in that time.

Five years ago we made you, and you made us. That seems like a pretty fair deal.

In less than a week you start school, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. Four months ago I was all bravado - "he will be fine! No problems. He is more than ready". Two months ago I was a little less sure. One week ago I was laying in bed wondering how I would cope. How will I feel letting you go on your first day, out there in the world. Going to school is so big. Sure you have been going to kindergarten for three days a week now for a year and a half, but this is different. This is when you truly start out on a journey thats your own.

I'm both excited and terrified. I'm terrified of how the world will treat you. But I am excited by what you will learn.

Your giggle is contagious. Your angry is hilarious - sorry.

You are so clever. And so bossy and yet so sweet. So willful. Oh my god - willful.
You spend time with your little sisters, playing their glowworms on repeat in an effort to try and get them to calm down, to wait a little bit longer for that bottle, "daddy is busy babies!".

You try to bargain, to negotiate. You tell us angrily that 'that is my deal!'.
There is nothing quite like behaviour being thrown directly back in our face.

What are you doing now? What can I share? I struggle to think because its all such a blur. Your body is getting too lengthy to fit in my lap - that I do know. In the morning you usually wake before the others (or between the others being awake and going back to bed, depending on how you look at it) and come sit with me while I drink my morning coffee. This is our time to snuggle and talk and its probably my most favourite part of the day.

You learn new concepts constantly, how to sit in the world around you. The other day you learned about making mistakes and the importance of them. You were so upset at yourself for doing something wrong (I can't remember what, but we firmly told you not to do it again), you thought we were angry. I told you that mistakes are important because you learn from them. You in turn told this to a 16 year old visitor who just sat back and said 'wow, dude, thats a bit deep'.

Five whole candles on your cake today. FIVE. Will I get used to this sudden pace the world is traveling at?