Kindergarten and ALMOST 6

Dearest Sweet Pea,
You area kindergartner! It's so wild! You LOVE your class at PS 130. It's an integrated classroom, which means there are two teachers and an aide and some of the kids have special educational plans. Some of the kids are still working on using their words instead of their bodies, but you take it in stride and have become so strong in advocating for yourself and establishing boundaries. You are an excellent communicator!

Also this fall you started a special ballet class at the Y that's a little more advanced and progressive. You work hard in class, no more games and fluttering around. You spend time at the barre and work on things until you get better. You LOVE it. There have been some times where it's gotten hard and you've said it's not fun anymore, but when asked if you want to go back, the answer is always an immediate YES

You also started Girl Scouts! You're officially a Daisy Scout and you also LOVE this. At your first meeting you made a friendship bracelet, learned the Girl Scout Law and Pledge and got to meet your fellow troopmates. Many of them go to your school, two are in your class now. And about half go to other schools, so it's a fun way to meet new people. You see your troopmates on the playground after school and it's so fun to watch you expand your friend circle so much. 

Proud Daisy!

You're learning to read in school and it's amazing to watch you blossom into a full on school-aged kid. The reading is come slowly and you get frustrated at times, but really day to day you grasp more and more. You read to your sister, which is the sweetest. She adores you, Sweet Pea, and you are so good to her. 

The summer of monkey bars

Dear Pea,
You are five and a half. You are obsessed with the monkey bars. You know which playgrounds have which ones and what types they have and decide how you want to spend your day: practicing a new skill or mastering one you already have down. You can do the rings, you can skip a bar, you can do the circular bars, you do the ones that are high...it's the summer of the monkey bars!

The Sweet Pea at FIVE

Dearest Pea,
You are FIVE years old. I thought I was done writing to you as your babyhood ended, but I think I'll still always want to sneak in some letters and stories every once in a while.

You have your first loose tooth! It's the left front bottom one and the adult tooth is already pushing up behind it. You are SO excited about the loose tooth and talk about the Tooth Fairy's impending visit daily. But not so excited that you want to tug or even wiggle aggressively. You just like knowing it's there, loose.

You are halfway through your year of public pre-k and you LOVE school. You adore your three teachers, all of whom adore you right back. The special treats you finagle for yourself never cease to amaze me: bracelets, tiaras, candy, special art projects...on and on. The girls in your class are sweet, but this has really been your first foray into complicated friendships. Sometimes someone wants to play with you, sometimes they want to play with someone else. Sometimes people say hurtful things. You seem to navigate it all well, but you really didn't admit to having any friends in school for almost a month. You weren't bothered by it; you just knew the difference between friends and acquaintances.

But what really astounds me about your five year old self is your role of big sister. You relish this. You adore being Lucy's big sister and adore Lucy. She will pull your hair, eat your toys, take me and Daddy's attention away from you for eons at a time and you NEVER lose it with her. You may get annoyed with me or Daddy, but you have never once said anything unkind or impatient with her. If she's crying, you try to cheer her up.  You still shatter our hearts, Sweet Pea, you are such a loving person.

Weaned! Weaned? WEANED!

Dear Pea,
That's right, baby girl-you are no longer drinking mama milky. I can't even remember your last nursing session or how long it's been since we've had one, but it's been at least 3 weeks. No ill effects to you or me. Hallelujah!

And almost overnight you are such a BIG kid. Crazy! Almost no baby left in you, except at night when you still wear a diaper and footie pajamas. And the curve of your still baby buddha belly.

Negotiations are still strong, as is your imaginative characters. You are seldom Eliza, but any number of characters from shows, movies, books or your friends. Though you are almost always your friend's older siblings.  Your gross motor skills are very well defined: climbing ladders, rising your tricycle, pumping on big kid swings. It's so fun to be at the park with you

 This is you walking a mile to your ballet class while pushing a doll stroller. You regularly walk farther distances than most Americans

 And when you don't want to walk, you happily ride

This one is VERY exciting: it's SPRING! You rode home from playgroup without your shoes on. You really liked having your toes aired out

Yeah, but...

Dear Pea,
You are at the top of your negotiating game, let me tell you. I think 95% of everything that comes out of your mouth in response to anything begins with, "Yeah, but..."

For example:
Me: would you like to go to the park?
You: Yeah, but I really want to stay home and watch something
Me: well, it's not time to watch something, but we can stay here and read a book
You: yeah, but I want to play with my cash register

Me: Time for bed, please pick out 3 books
You: Yeah, but I think it's not really time for bed yet
Me: I assure you, it's time for bed
You: Yeah, but maybe we could read 4 books tonight

Me: Would you like carrots or bell peppers with your lunch
You: Yeah, but I want macaroni and cheese
Me: Yep, would you like carrots or bell peppers with your mac & cheese?
You: Yeah, but I want peas

Yeah, but I want to hold the sled string

The other major verbal tic is "sure" or "surely."  As in, "I surely do know how to put on my shoes" and "I sure am going to read this book" or "It sure was pretty good at school today"  It sort of kills me, it's so thoughtful and cute.

I sure can say cheese!

Seattle at age 3

Dear Pea,
We just got back from our first visit to Seattle in over a year. It was awesome. This time around, traveling with you is actually pretty great: you get your own seat, you can carry your own bag (well, sort of), you know what's going on and are excited about it and you LOVE watching TV, so a 6 hour flight is totally manageable. Oh, and using the bathroom instead of diapers on an airplane is the best. thing. ever.

This trip was full of fun things that you could finally appreciate and enjoy. We tackled the aquarium, Pike Place, and the Seattle Waterfront. We saw lots of family. We also were able to have some great downtime and play with Uncle Rossy's old toys. You slept in my childhood bed, snuggled with my old toys and enjoyed being the center of a very large circle of people. I can't wait to go back this summer and see more of our friends. And maybe even do your first camping trip!

Awesome times with Silly Uncle David and Aunt Kathy

Seattle sunset on the beach 

 swinging with Aunt Kathy

 Happy Kirshenbaums and Cohens

 The AWESOME playhouse Aunt Kath made for you. Your mail box was stuffed with Valentines and there were blankets and books inside to get cozy with

You were SUPER into it!

A special day with your cousin Alinea!

 Your very first movie! Frozen. You were mesmerized

Pike Place Market: full of deliciousness

No visit with Uncle Rossy is complete without a carousel ride!

The aquarium was awesome!

 JellyEliza!

 This seal was eager to say hello

 Watching a scuba diver feed salmon and rock fish with Bobbob

Bedtime stories chez Kirshenbaum

Why do you love me?

Dear Pea,
Lately you have been very concerned with my reactions to you and my emotions. When we are in conflict, most often because you are not listening, you will ask if I'm happy immediately once the issue is resolved. For example, we will be heading out to school or an appointment and I'll be trying to get you on the bicycle. You'll run around the sidewalk, happy to be outside for the first time all day.
Me: "Ok, time to get on the bikey!"
You: no answer, zooming around
Me: "I'm going to count to 5 and then I'm going to pick you up to put you on the bike"
You: no answer, zooming around
Me: "1, 2, 3, 4"
You: "DON'T COUNT!"
Me: "Okay, then please come to the bike!"
You: no answer zooming around
Me: "5!"
You:"DON'T COUNT!"
I pick you up, plop you on the bike while you protest and I get frustrated, then as soon as you're buckled in you ask sweetly,"Mama are you happy?"

This happens with every defiance. I answer pretty honestly, usually I'm not flustered as this is status quo these days. But sometimes I am very frustrated or even angry, you have occasionally gotten too close to the curb for my liking when walking on the sidewalk and that freaks me out. You have also had epic tantrums about not getting to go to someone's house or a play space, even when we didn't have plans to go which is maddening to me. And when you ask if I'm happy, I'll say "No, I'm disappointed in your behavior!" Breathe. "I love you, but I'm not happy all the time." Breathe. "I love you!"  To which you asked "Why do you love me?

Gulp.

I mean, the honest answer is hormones. Right? I love you because my body has conditioned me to love you. Pregnancy and breastfeeding are all ruled by hormones, I kept you alive in those first moments because my body didn't really have a choice. And by the time the hormones normalized. we were bonded and I was in love and that was that.

I told you I loved you because you were so much fun to be with, and you made me laugh and smile and also because you are my child and that it my job. You were totally satisfied with that awkward off the cuff reply and spent the rest of the day saying "Am I making you laugh?" "I"m making you smile, Mama, see!"

But it got me thinking about why I really do love you, besides hormones. A lot of it is wrapped up in me, which was surprising to think about, but I'm tying to be honest. I love you because I feel that you have rooted me into this world. You have shined light on dark places, both the ugliness that I pushed away and hidden pockets of life I never knew existed. You force me to examine things I didn't want to look at ever again, stuffed away forgotten hurts that I now dissect daily. You have added so much love to my life, the number of people who know and love you shatters my heart. And the love you have for the world is so awesome and big it softens my cynicism. You riding the subway restores my faith in humanity. As a baby you would always give and receive smiles and now as you sit reading aloud, you connect with more people in a commute than many adults do in their whole day. I also love you wholly for you. Your creativity, your tenacity, your stubborn commitment to whatever you've pinned your heart on that moment. I love that you sing off key with creative lyrics at the top of your lungs when we're biking to school. I love that we both yell "BIG AGUA!" every time we see a canal, river, lake, ocean or really big puddle. It's ridiculous and fun and silly and normal to you. I love that you bargain for everything. I love that you are a snuggly kid, that you love to cuddle and hug (though only certain people, which I also love) and when we read books you insist on us both being under the same blanket. I love that you're sensitive and know when someone else is sad. I love that you tell us if you're sad or angry or frustrated. You had words early and have always used them. One of my earliest hearbreaks was you being not yet two at a party and a bigger girl ripping a toy stroller from your hands and you standing there crying and signing "please" to ask her to give it back (you recovered immediately once another stroller was produced, but I am haunted by that image). Now you say "that hurt my feelings Mama!" which is so wonderful and lovely and annoying, because usually it's in response to something like "we need to sit on the potty before we leave the house" and you don't want to. I love that you are up for adventure, that you are my travel buddy, that you know your limits ("I don't like dogs, I don't want to walk on the sidewalk next to that dog, PICK ME UP!") and that you are willing to try new things. I love that you tell jokes, that you want to make people laugh, that you worry about me being happy. I love that you asked why I love you.

But really, does it matter why? Just know that I do, oh, SO much.