Five

She turned five today.  FIVE.  Five years ago we met her for the very first time.  Five years ago right now was one of the worst moments of my life.  Five years ago right now was the first time I heard the words Ebstein’s anomaly.  It seems like such a distant memory now.  Part of me used to mourn in a way on her birthday, PTSD is a real bitch that way.  But now it just feels magical.  And triumphant.  She’s FIVE.

This feels like a bigger birthday for some reason.  Like it’s the complete end of toddlerhood and the beginning of real childhood.  She’s so fiercely independent.  She’s sassy as can be sometimes.  She’s moody as a teenager and she’s sweet and kind like no one I’ve ever met before.  She has a capacity for love like no one else I’ve ever met.  She’s my first born, the girl who made me a mama as I tell her.  I miss her sometimes, even though I spend every day with her.  She loves to draw and write and gets better at both every day.  She’s so wildly imaginative and creative some days, she lives in her stories all day long.  I love the way her breath smells.  She still has sweet smelling breath like a baby.  She cares and worries about other people so deeply it seems far too much for someone her age.  She “reads” to her baby sister and needs playtime with her every morning before she starts her day and every night before bed.  She calls her sister her best friend.  She makes up songs for her that are so sweet and touching.  She has dance parties that are amazing, but gets nervous when too many people watch.  She’s every thing I hoped and nothing I expected in a child.  She makes life better.  

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