Dear Lily,
On Friday, your fifth birthday, you had an extensive conversation with a stranger in the grocery store parking lot about your birthday party menu and planned activities, what you thought your gifts would be, and where I had stashed them. This kind of encounter is typical for you, and afterward I gave you my regular spiel about how we have to be careful with strangers and with how much information we share. "But Mom," you said, "I was a stranger when I was born!"

You are still the girl who waited until she was 19 months old to walk, however--as brave as you are with new people, you are still cautious about certain new experiences. We took our first family trip to Disney World in October, and you spent much of your time fretting in the lines: "Does this ride go fast? Are there seatbelts? If there are seatbelts, it means the ride is fast...is this ride dark? Dark like pitch black, or just a little dark? Are we going to get wet? Will there be freaky puppets?" and on and on. I just know I'll be riding an elevator one day and see your signature on the inspection certificate! You made me a nervous wreck, little girl, particularly when Daddy and I downplayed the speed and darkness of Space Mountain to get you to ride. I could hear you behind me screaming and screaming, and I thought the ride would never end. When the ride stopped, you were a little shaky and teary, but you yelled, "That was AWESOME!" After high fives all around, I said, "Lily, I was so worried! You were screaming so much!" You laughed and said, "Mom, I was just screamin' to scare the crap outta you."

Coincidentally (or maybe not), your favorite TV commercials lately are for insurance companies. One night at dinner you told me, "Mom, we need to go to Geico after this."
"Why?"
"Because 15 minutes could save you more on car insurance."
"Why on earth do you need car insurance?"
"No Mom, you need car insurance!"
You think I should get Progressive's Snapshot to "help me drive better," and you have tried to convince a store cashier to "fall in love with Progressive's claim service."

Girl can't get enough tomatoes.
You love a good playground, but overall you are fairly indoorsy. You love to draw and do crafts. Like me, you like to have a few projects going at once! You are a good helper, but quick to pitch a screamy fit if you get a request that threatens to derail you from your plans. Oh my girl, can you outgrow that this year? PLEASE?
I know it's frustrating being your age. You're big enough for lame stuff like dressing yourself and wiping bathroom counters, but not big enough for us to turn you loose on the neighbors like we can Maggie. You talk longingly of all the things you'll do when you're a "teenage-ah," and you often say, "I wish we could just be born big already, like my size." I still have a little PTSD from birthing you and your giant noggin at 7 pounds 3 ounces, thankyouverymuch!
You are excited to start Kindergarten in the fall. Every couple of weeks you ask, "Do I start my new school today?" and "Is it time for me to start Girl Scouts?" Soon, girlie. I can't wait to be done paying for daycare see how you like big-kid school. I imagine you will continue to be a brilliant handful!

As a little sister, you get your fair share of bossing, and you seek opportunities to boss someone else for a change. When you tell stories about school, you have taken to calling your classmates, "my students." When you and Maggie play, you do your best to bend the rules to your advantage. Earlier this week you were following Maggie around the house, moaning like a zombie. As the game picked up speed, Maggie protested, "Hey! Zombies don't run!" You informed her, "I'm an exercisin' zombie. Muuuuuh." And the game resumed at top speed.

With your Papa, ready for your Valentine's date
Oh Lily, I'm so lucky to have met such a silly-sweet little stranger five years ago. I can't wait to see what surprises are in store for the coming year!
Love,
Mom