Before I begin, my apologies. I realize I left you in silence for the better part of 6 months. I have thought about writing nearly every day but things became crazy and by the time I had a moment to sit down at the computer, all I wanted to do was crawl into bed. It was a whirlwind of PTO, Yearbook and other various school activities, but things are wrapping up and I should be back to normal for the Summer craziness.
L is turning 6 tomorrow. She is my last; my baby. I was so excited when B and M turned 6. It meant they were giant girls! When B was 3 she hated being called a little girl so we called her a big girl, but when she wanted to do something that was meant for someone older than 3, I couldn't tell her it was for big girls because she felt like that was where she was categorized. I tried, once, to tell her and she ended up in tears because, "I am a big girl, Mommy! I'm not a little girl!" So, I coined the phrase "Giant Girl" and described it as a girl who is 6 years old, goes to school every day and wears barrettes in her hair (because B insisted on the wild hair look, which oddly 8 years later she has taken up again). A big girl couldn't chew gum, but a giant girl could! A big girl couldn't stay up late, but giant girls could!
The phrase stuck and the big milestone for The Curly Girly Trio was becoming a giant girl and getting to chew gum. L is my last big girl. . . As of tomorrow, I will have 3 giant girls. L has been looking forward to this day for so long. She's excited about the cupcakes she'll get at school, the ice cream cake she'll get at home and of course the presents. She's especially excited about getting to chew gum like her big (giant) sisters do.
Putting her to bed tonight, I said, "Enjoy your last night as a 5 year old. When you wake up tomorrow, you'll be 6!"
"EEEK!," she screeched, in a very ungiant girl manner. "I know! I'm so excited! It's my birthday!"
As I was wrapping her presents, it dawned on me. I am never going to have a 5 year old again. I would love to say that I love all my girls' ages at every age, but I'm going to be blatantly honest. 11 stinks. The preteen attitude is already making me want to pull out my hair. She's not even a teenager yet and I'm already getting back talk, tone, eye rolling, door slamming and some sort of primal grunt. I can only imagine this will get more fun as she enters the teen years. Ages 4 and 5 are wonderful, though. I am the best Mommy ever (I know it's true because L tells multiple times a day). I get hugs and more hugs, because one isn't enough. I'm not ready to let this stage go, and yet I have no choice but to move on, keeping only my memories in my heart.
School picture day was last Monday. The girls wear uniforms, but on School Picture Day, they can wear whatever they want (within reason). L wanted to wear her favorite "ice cream outfit". This was an outfit that I bought for B when she was 4. It's a light blue shirt with a triple scoop ice cream cone on it and a white skort with polka dots that match the blue and the colors of the ice cream. There are even matching socks (gone are the days when I bought matching socks and bows for every outfit). B loved this outfit, M loved this outfit and L loved this outfit. After L put it on, I took one look at her and said, "My love, it's too small on you. I'm sorry, but you'll have to pick something else." She burst into tears and went back to her room, sobbing hysterically. She pleaded and cajoled, but to no avail.
"Please don't give it away," she hiccuped.
"I know how very much you love this outfit, my sweet," I said. "Don't you think we should share it with another little girl so she can love it just as much?"
After a few minutes of thinking, L agreed that it would be nice to let another little girl love it too. She gave it to me, and I put it in the laundry room (AKA: my catch all room). As I was cleaning off the counter tonight, I saw the outfit and picked it up to put it in the Give Away bag and you know what? I couldn't do it.
When B outgrew it, I wasn't upset because I knew M would wear it. When M outgrew it, I wasn't sad because I knew L would wear it. Now that L has out grown it, I feel all sorts of sad. Is this how it's going to be? Will I feel sad with every little milestone L has? Will I be crying tears of happiness at B's graduations and tears of sadness at L's? How is that fair to L? She needs to see it's OK to grow up and become her own person, but how can she see that if at every turn I'm standing there with tears running down my face?
I never knew the last would be so hard. They say the youngest is often babied the most and perhaps that's because it's just too difficult to let go.
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