Gimme 5!

Addie turned 5 last week. She’s now an entire hand. She has been asking about her birthday for about 9 months, so we all can’t believe it’s here and gone.
I can’t believe she’s 5.

For some reason 5 has been hard on me. I’m realizing that my baby, my toddler and my preschooler is no more. Poof. She is an official, full-fledged kid, and in some ways, very nearly a tween! She is already WAY into her girlfriends. She’s already cliquey; she already desperately wants to fit in. She goes around singing “Put a Ring on It.” (Parents. Do NOT let your little girl watch “Chipmunks. The Squeekquel” unless you want a daily rendition of your child shimming across the living room singing “All the single ladies! All the single ladies!”) ((BTW, way to go, Dennis. )) : )

What I’m trying to say is that I can see her baby innocence seeping away right before my eyes, and I’m sad. I’m just plain sad.

I feel bad about being sad. (Yes. I need therapy.)

I shouldn’t be sad that she’s growing up. Five years old mean so many wonderful things are in store for our little pumpkin and I’m soooo proud of all she can do. Our beautiful daughter is learning to read and write. She can ride her big girl bike and can hold her own conversation with anyone, granted that conversation may contain questions like the one I got just yesterday, “Momma, how do kitties smile?”

I love all of this. I could not be more in love with my five year old. She is a delight and my biggest joy.

But still . . . where did the time go?