I have such found memories of waking up on my birthday to find a stack of presents on our kitchen table---it always felt like Christmas morning just for me---and it is fun to know that EJ is getting old enough to appreciate the anticipation the night before, the sneaking out of the room to see, and the running to her parents' room to get the party started.
It was while EJ was opening her gifts that her 5-year old maturity really hit me. It was the way she looked for the seam in the wrapping paper, as well as the way she examined each option to determine which one she wanted to open next, that really struck me---everything about her is shifting from little one to school-aged one, and as she declared, "Now that I'm five, I'm not a big, little-girl, I'm just a big girl," I couldn't really disagree.
She is my little one, though, and there are a million little things to love about her.
Take for example, this:
EJ, upon opening this make-it-yourself** doll, declared, "I'm going to make it look just like the picture on the box. That is the way that I think it is supposed to be." What is so charming about this is that, a few months ago, she gave this exact doll to her good friend for her sixth birthday, and they assembled it together. Her friend took a more creative approach, making her doll look a lot different from the example, and EJ protested. Her friend stood firm---this is a "do it yourself" kit and her doll and she could make it look however she liked, and EJ listened, thought for a moment, and then agreed. "You are right!" she said at the time. She didn't stop there, though. EJ let her friend know that, when EJ had her birthday, she could get the same kit, and she could make the doll look identical to the box picture.
She has asked for that doll almost every other day since then, always stating (as if I could forget), "...and when I make it, it will look like the picture, because that is how I think it is supposed to be." That kid has a memory like a steel trap and a focused determination like nothing I have ever seen.
She's also just plain funny. Like yesterday, when she told me that she was "so sorry that [I] had holes in [my] ears, but it is nice that [I] can use them for earrings." Or here, as she dances with what is arguably one of her absolute favorite gifts:
Yes, it is a kid-sized broom and dustbin that she has been eyeing lovingly for awhile at our local toy store. Bless that child's heart, upon opening it, she literally squealed, "Now I can sweep and brush with you, Mom!" She's already picking up on how desperately I need housekeeping help!
EJ is a kid who makes a note of everything, and usually knows what to expect because of this. This morning, as I was getting her ready for camp, she told me that she would be wearing a birthday crown when I came to bring a birthday treat to the class. I asked her how she knew this, and she launched into a detailed description of the birthday procedure for every child---what had been done, what they had been able to chose (i.e., "I'm going to pick Cinderella and Aurora colors for my crown, because I can pick that part."), what the whole thing would look like. I didn't want her to be disappointed, though, so I said, "Well, we'll see. It will be a great birthday no matter what."
She was right. This is how I found her at camp today:
For those not living in princess-town like we currently are, the band is Cinderella color (blue) and the number is Aurora (pink).
For all her attention to order, she is still thrilled to be surprised. Take, for example, her reaction to opening the singing birthday card she got tonight from her grandparents:
Because EJ is the only grandchild on both sides of the family, she gets showered with these sorts of fun moments, and while I used to worry about all the attention, I now just sit back and revel at how she manages to bring everyone together, especially to try and do things that they wouldn't normally do just because she is interested. Tonight, for example, she wanted Indian food for her birthday. Actually, she originally wanted sushi, but this wasn't workable logistically, so she thought that eating samosas and curry sauce on rice might be nice, instead. Indian food is Mike's favorite and one of mine, too (it is edged out by Korean food, but only by a slim margin), but for all the grandparents, it is hardly the norm. My food-adventurous dad and mother-in-law will launch into any cuisine with gusto, but I am happy to report that all four of EJ's grandparents and her uncle loved the food tonight, and I don't know how we could have assembled that crew at that place if it wasn't for her.
Just looking at even one picture from our dinner this evening brings up so many little memory moments:
Within the picture above I see:
1) The papadum that EJ munched and prompted others to try (who hadn't already become familiar with their deliciousness) describing how yummy it was in detail, and encouraging them simply by her example (i.e., if a five year old will try it...)
2) The pen she borrowed from her Uncle John to show him that, at restaurants with paper on the table, you are allowed to draw if you'd like
3) The birthday crown she'd saved to show the grandparents that hadn't seen it yet (Nana and Papa came to camp for her treat today)
4) The snuggle she is just about to give to her grandfather as she tells him how much she loves him
5) Just out of frame, the flowers she picked (clover) to give a bouquet to her Grandma
Of all the things, though, that I saw today that made me just smile and feel weepy with joy was her heartfelt gratitude. With all of this attention, one worries about selfishness developing. She certainly has inherited our occasionally outspoken decisiveness (the polite way to say that sometimes we are vocal and stubborn). But more times than I could snap a picture today, I saw her with her hand over her heart saying thank you. "Awh, thank you so much!" "Oh, thank you, I just love it!" "Awh, this is a really nice thing to share with me. Thank you!" It really was like this all day. To the waitress who gave her a free chocolate-covered marshmallow to the people who simply wished her, "Happy Birthday," there were so many sweet gestures of thankfulness---genuine, unprompted by an adult, not simply polite thankfulness---that I found myself overwhelmed by this beautiful person in my life.
Here are just a few:
When do we become afraid to be this demonstrative about our joy? Our appreciation? Our gratitude? I don't know, but I'm taking a lesson from my very wise five-year old big girl---show the love!
Five years old. Here's hoping the next year will be equally:
Smiley, even early in the morning
Silly, especially with friend
Active outdoors (and with a helmet!)
Girly, even if it involves living in princess-town awhile longer
Creative, particularly with percussion from Uncle Joe
Full of wishes come true
Happy Birthday, sweet EJ.
**Strictly speaking, this is not a make-it-yourself doll if you are five, because it involves insanely hard to operate double-sided tape, directions to do things like "make pleats" in tiny pieces of fabric, necklace and bracelet creation dependent upon beading teensy-weensy transparent "jewels" on to fishing wire, and all kinds of craziness that can only be done by an adult. The harsh reality: that adult is likely to be a mom, and if that mom is like me, she won't care nearly as much as her kid if the doll looks like the picture provided in the example. So, mom friends, if you don't want to spend an hour and twenty minutes pre-coffee making a doll look "just like the picture" like I did this morning, I recommend either a) not buying this or b) only buying it for a kid like EJ's friend, who is willing to decorate "out of the box," and better yet, with another kid friend.
1 comments:
She looks SO grown up. And that bubbly, effusive warmth? I wonder where she gets that?
I am really proud of EJ. And you guys -- what an excellent job you have done getting her this far. :-)
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