2013 - Year End Review

Happy 5th Birthday, my darling love.

How has it already been five years that you caused us to miss the 2008 Tax Break by 15 hours (in case you were wondering, no, Daddy and I will never ever let you live that down)?

Top 10 Things You Love:

1. Art (crayons, pens, pencils, paint - you don't discriminate)
2. Singing
3. Making up your own jokes (my personal favorite: What do horses do before they take a bath? Get neeeeiiiiighhhhhh-ked.)
4. Reading
5. Playing with Charlie
6. Pizza Fridays
7. Parks
8. Commercials on Nick Jr (which annoys me to no end ...)
9. School
10. Pink, purple, and orange (your current favorite colors)

Top 10 Things You Don't Love:

1. Beans
2. Loud noises
3. Toilets that flush automatically
4. Loud hand dryers in public restrooms
5. Bad guys in movies. At the first notion of a bad guy, you loudly declare that "this is the worst movie in the history of the world."
6. Any change in routine. You brushing your teeth before Charlie brushes his? Oh no. NOT. HAPPENING. 
7. Eye drops for pink eye
8. Coming up with ideas to entertain yourself on your own
9. Yogurt
10. When Charlie says the same thing over and over and over (which he does a LOT)

Top 10 Things You're Good At:

1. Reading pretty much anything put in front you
2. Spelling. That you know how to spell big words absolutely floors me
3. Writing. You write page after page of sweet notes to people you love
4. Making Charlie laugh
5. Bossing Charlie around (this, however, does not make Charlie laugh)
6. Eating. You may not like everything on your plate, but you always eat the required Courtesy Bite. 
7. Jumping to conclusions (and subsequently falling apart). If we're playing before bed and I say it's time to get your jammies on, you disolve into a puddle of tears because you think that we won't get to play anymore. If you would just ASK if we could play more after you get your jammies on, you'd discover that 90% of the time, the answer is yes. Or if we're playing catch, and Charlie throws the ball to me, you immediately pout and grouss and say "Now I'm NEVER going to get the ball! I'm never going to get to play!" Dramatic much?
8. Singing. All the time. 
9. Creating your pretend sisters. Currently there's Jesse (she's two months and only an inch long), Alaska, Abaska, and Ita (Ita's been around since you were two or three). Alaska and Abaska can do things that you're not allowed to do (like eat ice cream for dinner).
10. Riding your bike. You've decided that you're ready to ditch your training wheels. We'll see if there are any visits to the ER in 2014.

Top 10 Things You're Not Good At:

1. Remaining unpanicky when things don't go your way. You go from zero to FREAKING OUT in 0.1 seconds.
2. Differential equations.  Five years, going strong.  
3. Being humble. It's funny, you hardly brag at all about the things you're truly good at (like reading, writing, and spelling). You brag about knowing things that, in reality, you know very little about. "I know everything about doctors and dentistses." [Yes, I typed that correctly. d-e-n-t-i-s-t-s-e-s. I believe not pronouncing the word correctly implies that you do not, in fact know everything about it.] 
4. Getting your clothes right-side-out after they're inside-out. When I ask you to do it, you give me the same exasperated response as if I had just asked you to smell a color or taste a number.
5. Sitting still. You are so squirmy and you change positions every 2.2 nanoseconds.
6. Trying new foods. Once we can GET you to do it, you're all good. But getting you to that point can be dicey at times.
7. Not giving up. Ah, yes. You get this incredibly undesirable quality from me. If you can't figure it out the first time, you pitch a fit and declare you'll NEVER be able to do . EVER. 
8. Keeping a secret. "Charlie, I will NOT tell you you're getting a train table for your birthday." *sigh*
9. Cooking me dinner. 
10. Getting your own ice water. Oh, what I would GIVE to have a fridge with an ice-and-water dispenser in the door ...

From January 2013 to December 2013, you've gone from someone who hardly knew how to read a handful of words to someone who can read practically every kid book at the library. You've gone from someone who was fearful in new situations to someone who has from Day One, walked right into preschool like you've been doing it forever. You've also walked into (almost) each Sunday School class at every new church we've tried like a professional Sunday School attendee. This newfound confidence of yours is such an answered prayer.

You write notes to your friends. You draw pictures to let people know you're thinking about them. You comfort Charlie when he's upset. You call me the Best Cook Ever. You always ask Daddy how his day at work was. You are one of the most thoughtful souls I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.

You often get too big for your britches. I don't think that's unique to you; I think it's in the Four-Year-Old Handbook: YOU MUST ACT LIKE A BIG OL' SASSYPANTS AND BIG OL' KNOW-IT-ALL 24/7. I often struggle with what to let slide and what to bring to an immediate halt. I think that will be a common struggle in my Motherhood Walk - what to let slide and what to nip in the bud. I am thankful that you are, for the most part, a rule follower. It may take us telling you 9,392 times to get it through your know-it-all four-year-old head, but eventually you get the picture.

You are so like me when I was little (according to Bob) ... it is a truth that's both hilarious and humbling. I don't know at what point I decided to not a gigantic sassypants (I mean, I still am, but I try to be a social acceptable sassypants) but I'm assuming it wasn't at age four. Or five ... or six or seven or eight ... Your sassiness indicates feistyness. And it forever keeps me on my toes. You and I watch Food Network a lot during Quiet Time, and more than once, you've commented on the textures of your food, on the prominent flavors that come out of whatever we're having for dinner, on how the flavor of one food complements the color (yes, the color) of another food. I adore you and I love you with an indescribable fierceness.

You are a common theme in my prayers. I pray that your heart will be drawn to God at an early age, I pray that you'll have a Godly influence on your friends, I pray you'll find your worth in who He says you are and not who your peers say you are or aren't. I also pray that your sassiness won't get you beat up on the playground. You and I are similar in many ways and I pray that those similarities will bring us closer and not drive us apart. Daddy and I have the incredible honor of being your parents. I fall more in love with him when I see how gentle he is with you, how patient he is with you, how he is a total pushover for your precious smile and hilarious commentary. You change people, my girl. And I can assure you, you've changed me for the absolute better.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy