When I was one I had just begun
When I was two I was nearly new
When I was three I was hardly me
When I was four I was not much more
When I was five I was just alive
But now I am six, I'm as clever as clever;
So I think I'll be six now for ever and ever.
That poem gives me the warm fuzzies, but you, my girl, are far from content with your six-year-old lot. On Friday, the day before your birthday, you told me, “I wish it could be my birthday every day.” I figured you were wishing for non-stop presents and cake, but you explained, “Then I could be 18 sooner!” Age six is for the birds!
You started Kindergarten in the fall, and you have learned so much. You are reading beyond your grade level, and you soak up new information like crazy. Among the concepts you have explained to me recently are gravity, homophones and echolocation. Of course, like most kids, your ears are always open outside of school, too. Last night you bellowed to nobody in particular (at home, luckily), “Do you have CHILD-BEARING HIPS?!” and explained to Maggie, “Those are hips that bury children.”
We’re still lacking a playmate your age in the neighborhood, and you get so frustrated. You try to play with Maggie and her friends, but you can be a little
screamy inflexible dramatic sometimes, and there are usually tears. Your desire to catch up was illustrated all-too-painfully a couple of weeks ago when you were running down the street after the big kids on their roller skates and scooters. You ran so hard your shoes flew off—it’s unclear whether they parted from your feet before or after you fell and road-rashed your knee and face.
That wasn’t your only mishap this year--you have become very accident prone, judging by your accounts of occasional Kindergarten misbehavior:
“I accidentally lay down during independent reading time.”
“I accidentally talked during quiet time.”
“I accidentally screamed in the hallway.”
“I accidentally marched during morning announcements.”
We weren’t sure what to expect when you started school – we had a feeling that you wouldn’t have quite the flawless behavior Maggie has had in her first years of school, but we’ve been pleasantly surprised at your ability to rein in your chatty tendencies. You are a good helper and friend to your classmates, and they are always excited to see you.
Somehow, you are an extrovert in a household of introverts. We can always count on you to strike up a conversation with the nearest stranger. You are charming and silly, and you love to sing and dance wherever there’s an audience, whether it’s in our living room or at Dunkin’ Donuts. You are incredibly affectionate, and you can’t just sit next to someone on the couch—you always have to snuggle up close.
You continue growing at a 4 inch/year pace, and you are taller today than Maggie was on her eighth birthday! You are still the first person to wake up every weekend, but the hardest one to wake up on a school day. You love playing with your Monster High and Ever After High dolls, and you were Draculaura for Halloween.
I know you won’t be six “for ever and ever,” so I’m furiously working on storing memories of this sweet time in your life: your smile and wave when I drop you off at school, your little hand always ready to grab mine when I reach back for it, your sweet cuddles crowding me on the couch, your impulsive “I love you”s and kisses on the cheek, your utter silliness. I hope I will always be able to see a little of you at age six, even after you have become the 18-year-old of your dreams!
Happy birthday, baby girl!