High Five

Dear Mary Elizabeth,

Happy birthday, my fairy-loving, yellow-is-my-favorite-color-of-the-moment-but-I-love-all-colors, sweet little girl! I can’t believe my little flower child is five now! You truly are a free spirit, who floats through life (always highly accessorized, of course) and notices whimsy and beauty all around you.  Wild violets poking up through blades of grass. Clouds shaped like big cats. My new lipstick shade. A cameo appearance of Rapunzel in Frozen. You’re drawn to all that is beautiful: babies, flowers, makeup, chic shoes, butterflies, good storybooks.

You were born with a glam gene and remain our resident fashionista. Sometimes (okay, a lot of times) I’ll throw on something sporty and casual or wear my manly but cozy, oversized cardigan, and you’ll say, “You’re wearing that?” On the other hand, when I dress up for a date with Daddy or to go to church, you are always quick to compliment me. You watch me get ready and it’s like you’re under a spell. The whole process enchants you.

When I was finally ready to wean you (you nursed the longest out of all the kids and still talk about it sometimes), the only way I could gently make it happen was to bribe you with your own makeup kit. You were giving Gaba [my mom] a stunning makeover, and she asked you where you got your elaborate makeup, and you just a wee bit wistfully said, “This was my big-girl gift when I stopped nursing.”

You are such a big-girl and boy, do you love mothering your babies – or Layla [our dog] or Fang [our cat].  Your big sisters will list all the things they want to be when they grow up, and then you’ll proudly say, “I want to be a mommy.” Your desire to have babies and to grow up to be a mom rattles my heart in a good way every time. Just a week or so ago, I was making funny faces at you and your brother while I was pumping gas. I can’t recall when I started doing this (and sometimes regret it when people look at me oddly as I contort my face while seemingly checking out my reflection in my minivan windows), but it’s become a ritual you love. When I got back into the van, you said, “I am going to do that to my kids when I’m a mommy.” That was one of the best compliments you could have given me. What you were saying is: You make me happy. I notice the little things you do and appreciate your silly faces. I want to be a mommy like you someday.

 

Thank you, sweet girl, for building me up. You have a way of doing that. You’re so wonderful about thanking me and complimenting me as a mom.  (You’re also always telling me I’m pretty or that you like my shoes.) And it’s not just me you freely give compliments to. We once went around the table as a family and we all named one trait we really appreciated about each other. Well, we all agreed that you are wonderful at complimenting people and noticing them. Your feminine genius is at work big time.

You’re also a great big sister to Thomas. He can be a pain right now and rough with your toys and with you! You very rarely retaliate and are very patient with him. The other day the two of you played outside for over an hour with no sign of squabbling.

You’re protective about Fang, too. When he’s outside, you worry about him even though he doesn’t stray far from the backyard at all.  You’re an affectionate snuggler. You love it when Rachel sleeps with you and if she doesn’t end up spooning you, you find your way down to Daddy and my bed (we play musical beds around here).

You’re very in to art and coloring right now, and your pictures are becoming increasingly detailed. You drew a picture of Uncle Jason recently for his birthday, and we all laughed because you even included his goatee. Your portrait looked a lot like him!

You make me laugh all of the time. You still say “pisappear” for “disappear.” The other day you spotted a train and you were very proud you saw it and pointed it out to us (as if we could have missed it roaring passed the van), and you said, “My eyes are good to see that train. My eye was peeled.”

Let’s see. What else do you like these days? You love your new baby doll Daddy and I got you for your birthday. You named her Courtney, and you take very good care of her. (Madeline and Rachel are her nannies.) You love tomatoes. Your best friend is Will, who lives right down the street, and you draw him pictures all of the time. You taught yourself how to ride a two-wheel bike without training wheels in one day and love to zip up and down the driveway. You play with my hair sometimes when I read to you, and it feels heavenly.  You’re counting the days until summer swimming lessons. You’re quite independent and always dress yourself without any help from me every morning. Your hair is very important to you and most of your rare tantrums involve a bad hair day or me styling your tresses all wrong.  You’re extremely nurturing. I was going to a bible study at church and one day Daddy was home so I told you could just stay with him rather than going to the nursery, but you burst into tears. “You want to stay in the nursery?” I asked.

“I want to help with the babies,” you told me. Apparently, you were a big help with all the little ones there!

You like to build fairy houses outside with moss, flowers, bark, and other natural artifacts. You very rarely nap, but you are amazing at quiet time and will color on your own for an entire hour or play quietly. You like to pretend I’m your little girl sometimes, and you’re always make believing it’s my birthday and treating me nicely.

You are genuinely happy, and nothing seems to upset you for long although the last two car trips we went on, you started throwing a tantrum over having a wedgie. You go with the flow (so long as your panties are in a wad), and I frequently find you twirling about like the princess you are. You have so much beauty to offer the world – and I’m not talking about those gloriously green eyes and long lashes or strawberry blonde hair – I’m talking about your kindness, your sweetness, and your love for life. Just the other day Thomas was tired and crying , and you started singing him a sweet song (you love to make up ditties and often sit at the piano and “compose” music and come up with lyrics). “It’s alright. Don’t you cry…”  you softly crooned. And – viola! – he stopped crying. You noticed he was sad, and you tried to make a difference. Keep doing that, my sweet child. Love with that big, beautiful heart of yours. Dance barefoot in the grass. Pursue beauty and Truth. Give of yourself. Be kind. Don’t be afraid to tell others you want to be a mother. Some will say it’s not enough. Or you’re too smart to “just” be a mom. But you will make an amazing one. I’m already praying for you to find a husband who will treat you the way you deserve and help you find that family of your dreams. Of course, I will love you and support you if your dreams (or reality) change. I will love you always, no matter what.

Happy fifth birthday, Mary Elizabeth! I can’t wait to see what life has in store for you.

Love,

Mommy

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You requested a woodland fairy cake, so that’s what I gave you We had a simple family party, and we all ended up in the backyard playing soccer and enjoying a beautiful spring day. Madeline remarked, “Family parties are the best.” I agree.

 

 

My baby brother (AKA Uncle Josh) shows off his soccer moves.

Present time!

And now a blast from the past. You were such a peanut when you were born! You were my smallest baby, and you were born on Palm Sunday weighing just 5 pounds 14 ounces. When you saw this photo, you said, “I’m so little. My head is like a little grape.”

You always loved my nana who passed away almost two years ago. You also had a special thing for an elderly neighbor who is sadly no longer with us either (you used to toddle over to him when he sat in his yard and hug his legs), so this birthday I bought you the book, I Know a Lady, which shares the reflections of a little girl about her kindhearted elderly neighbor.

I always tell people that my babies start out small and plump up very quickly thanks to the “cream” my body miraculously produces. You were one of the deliciously chubbiest of all. Papa used to call you Chunk Style. Daddy says you look like Newt Gingrich in this photo. It’s one of his favorite baby pictures of you.

Oh, how I love you, Mary Elizabeth!!!