I look at the clock and it’s 11:34 pm. I picture my newly minted five-year-old, asleep in her bed, covered with the Hello Kitty blanket I stayed up until past midnight last night to make, her hands curled under her ear, like the fiddlehead ferns she begged me to buy in the grocery store last week. I wonder, does she know that she has twenty-six minutes (now twenty) left of being in the in-between?
Because on her birthday this morning, she began as a four-year-old. And four-year-olds are young. They’re like babies. They go to pre-school. They say things like, “I liked it, but only one dot,” and everyone nods in wonderment. They are allowed to lisp. They always get right of way, whether on a bike or in a pool or playing Skipbo. Because they’re just four. And everyone else, at least everyone else in my house, is older.
But now, asleep in her bed, she is five. And in twenty minutes (actually, now eighteen minutes) she will be entirely five, not even one dot four. And while she will remain the youngest in my household, five does not have the cachet that four does.
I remember turning five. I remember it distinctly, although I don’t remember anything much from before then. But I remember that on my fifth birthday I got a record from my aunt and uncle that had songs from Sesame Street, including the Letter J, the Number 5 and I Love Trash. Also, I Love to Teach the World to Sing, the one with the verse in spanish.
I would dance around my living room acting out every song on the record, this record seemingly invented for me with the Letter J and the Number 5 and trash, jumping up on the white hassock on wheels, facing the large picture window with the blue and white curtains like it was a stage and I was a star and the whole entire neighborhood was watching me wondering when they would see me on the Al Alberts Showcase with all the other pretty little girls in red and white dresses and perfectly curled ringlets.
Somewhere between then and not so long after then, I realized that I would never be on the Al Albert Showcase. I don’t have much of a voice. Or dance moves. Although I did have occasional ringlets. But nonetheless, I aspired to less, less even than Al Albert and his Philadelphia variety show on Sunday mornings featuring little kids in their Easter clothes.
And I wonder if she will figure out something about herself and her possibilities between now and not so long after now.
(God, I hope not.)
Right now she thinks that everyone will want to be her friend. And so everyone does. Random people on the beach, the people in the grocery store, the kids at school, even her sister’s friends, they all want to hold her hand. I have had people thank me for bringing her to the grocery store because she made their day, just being there. Like, more than once.
She is effervescent, glowing, with pearly skin and golden hair and the ability to ride the same two-wheeler three miles as her six-year-old siblings ride. In the last few months she has begged me to teach her to read and to play the piano, and so I have, and so now she does those things, too. Yesterday she swam the length of the pool with no help. She dove right in, head curled forward, toes splayed out behind.
Today she is absolutely invincible.
It is 11:56 pm now and there are just four more minutes of the in-between.
It is June, and there are only two and a half more months before she begins kindergarten, heading into all-day school with the other three.
Then in thirteen short, short years she will graduate from high school. Then three months later she will likely leave for college.
I will fold that Hello Kitty blanket and tuck it in her special box. I will walk through her bedroom wondering when she will fill it again. Will she come home for Thanksgiving? How long will those three months between dropping her off at her freshman dorm and November break seem? How will she see herself then? What dreams will she chase?
It is midnight and the little girl who poses for the camera, who glows and shimmers, runs and struts to catch up, she is no longer four, not even one dot. Tomorrow she will be nothing but five.
May she unfurl those tendrils and curl towards the light, stretching and growing and forever invincible.
(Happy birthday, my little baby girl.)
Reblogged this on lizjensen7.
I’m in tears at 1:20am, thinking about my beautiful 4 year old daughter who will be 5 this year. Your description of this moment in her life in comparison to what you remember in your childhood is remarkable on all accounts. It was a wonderful read. I can see I may have missed her birthday, so happy belated birthday to your beautiful 5 year old.
Ah, what sweet words. While you’ve missed her birthday, you haven’t missed her actual birthday party. How late am I on all things?!
Thanks so much for dropping by and for your kind comment.
Time sure does fly
Really that should have been the name of this whole blog, because it’s about 80% of what I post about. Time is flying. Time is flying.
Thanks for stopping by.
Your title brought a tear to my eye!!! Great piece 🙂
Thanks for appreciating the title. Strangely, I can never quite remember the actual title. I was trying to tell my husband about it, “I think it was called “She’s No Longer Young, Not One Dot?” And he was like, “What in the world does that even mean?” Ha!
And thank you for dropping by.
Ha ha it was “Tomorrow She is Never again 4 years old”
What date was this written
Interesting question, although an unusual comment. As it’s summer here, I have zero sense of time, but I can tell you it was written the night of her actual birthday, I proofed it the next morning and posted it either that day or the next.
I just wanted to know the actual date because it could of been my birthday as well
Happy birthday to your daughter. Birthdays are so bittersweet. You did a great job of capturing it.
Thank you. Capturing these moments is exactly what I’m always chasing. They slip by all too fast.
beautiful
Thank you.
They grow and they grow and they don’t look back, and they don’t stop to reminisce until much much later. Until then, it’s our job to do that. Loved it, and hated it too because my former four-year-old wonder is now ten and when I wake up tomorrow morning she’ll probably be twenty. Scary…
Right? I think this little girl has aged about eight years since I wrote it.
This week I spent over an hour at the checkout counter trying to figure out how to buy a very specific kids’ kayak for my son’s eighth birthday using random gift cards and store credits we’d accumulated for the purpose. It was one of those nightmare moments where I said to one of the store managers, “You don’t understand. I can NOT leave this store without a kayak.” and I got the chokey voice. By the end of the fiasco all the kids were beyond annoyed and I turned to the manager and said, “No one will ever thank me for the weeks it has taken me to make this happen.” She looked at the kids and said, “Not until they’re thirteen at the earliest. And by then you’ll have bigger issues to worry about.” Cringe.
(Thanks for commenting.)
Beautiful. This makes me appreciate the inherent strength and perfection of my four year old. A time to cherish it seems…In between the moments of naughtiness, I must remember that there is a beautiful, strong, whole soul. Unbroken by the world. Thank you.
Wow. This comment is a blog post in itself. Beautiful.
Thank you for commenting.
Reblogged this on PAN GALACTIC STATION and commented:
Lest I forget to enjoy this coming year with my 4 year old! This is stunning writing. Just beautiful. I feel the passing of time as a bittersweet experience….no wonder I find birthday’s somewhat traumatic….you’ll get what I mean by reading on…
Thanks so much for the gorgeous intro and for the reblog.
What a lovely pondering. I, too, have sat and watched my little ones sleep and think of the too-few years that will see them grow from my lap to my arms to my hands and finally to my fingertips.
Ah, thank you for dropping by. It’s amazing how the time slips by.
Beautiful. My “little” girl will be a quarter of a century next month, but my memories of those precious days are equally poignant. It is wise that you look into the future as their behaviors, braveries and failures are all breadcrumbs as they journey toward tomorrow. Enjoy every age–they are all magical. Even almost 25.
This comment is like its own blog post, its own essay. Twenty-five years, both an eternity, and barely tomorrow. I love the braveries and failures like breadcrumbs- I will follow carefully. Thank you for these words and for reading.
Reblogged this on frombeachestomountains.
Thanks for the reblog (and what an enticing blog name.)
Time flies !!
Too fast, too fast.
(Thank you for stopping by and for commenting.)
Wow, how quickly the baby in the nursery at the hospital has become a little girl keeping her mom on her toes with her innocence antics born out of curiosity
Wow, how quickly the baby in the nursery at the hospital has become a little girl keeping her mom on her toes with her innocence antics born out of curiosity
Yes, exactly. From nursery to kindergarten to high school to the real world.
Thank you for reading and for commenting.
Reblogged this on Camelia Angels.
Thank you for the reblog and for reading.
So beautiful! With my 4 year old little girl’s 5th birthday coming much to quickly this made me tear up. How time goes by so fast. Thank you for reminding me to slow down and cherish this time I have with my little girl.
The birthdays sneak up and then slip by like thieves in the night. Enjoy that fifth birthday!
Thank you for reading and for commenting.
Great post! Thank you for sharing. Each day is a gift.
Each day IS a gift. Thank you for reading and commenting.
Reblogged this on oktavias8010.
Thank you for the reblog.
My daughter turned 5 last month she’s my oldest so it realy hit me, love this
Ah, those sweet little girls growing old before our very eyes. It gets to you.
Tonight we were driving as the moon rose and she looked out the window and said, “The moon is glowing cheese.” I hope there’s a glowing moon cheese near you tonight, too!
♥
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I can relate so clearly to this post. I had the same emotion, the same ‘oh my gosh, I only have 13 more summer vacations with her before she leaves for college and spreads her wings’ thoughts. Mine was when my daughter turned 6 and she would never again be a baby through 5yrs. I cried and cried. My daughter is now 11 and I feel like I am on a fast roller coaster ride and before I know it- the ride will be over. I am hanging on for all I have and enjoying every minute.
I love this comment. You are in my brain. I have three modes: 1. Being exhausted by them 2. Being in the moment with them 3. Lamenting, lamenting, lamenting. (Please note the repetition here. LAMENTING!) It’s an odd balance, for sure. And definitely a roller coaster. Watch for more lamenting posts when I actually drop her off on her first day of school. Egads!
Thank you so much for your comment.
Never ever again the same age. So hard to take
Right?! Me aging I can sort of take. 45 isn’t that far off of 40 really. But five to six to… Ten?! Impossible to take.
Thanks for reading.
This was a beautiful story, so poignant and sweet! Happy birthday to your little one!
Beautifully said 🙂
Thanks so much. So glad you stopped by.
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What a beautiful post. It made me well up, I’m not gonna lie. Thank you for sharing. I try and cherish every day I have left of my son’s 4….that helps with the “less than stellar days”… Even with those….I just want it to slow down!!!!
Yes, even the bad days I could slow down. At least that’s what I believe at 10:14 at night as they slumber upstairs. It’s midday that it’s hard to remember to savor the minutes. Thanks so much for stopping by and for commenting.
As I read this, I keep thinking to myself; “Damn they grow up fast.” As a mom of three (previously 4), I watch my children grow up and just wish they wouldn’t do it so fast. It seems like yesterday that my youngest was born. She’s now 7 months old, rolling over, trying to walk and talk, etc. Time just flew by and she grew up way to fast. I also have a daughter who’s about to be seven and just graduated kindergarten this past school year. For me, it’s hard to believe she’s going into the first grade. My son, who’s been gone since he was three months, will be four in march and he’s grown up so much in that time! (A lot of things are explained on my blog). Either way, that being said every time they change a year, or get a year old, my heart breaks a little inside because they just grow so fast and become independent. All that being said… I can relate to this post and I enjoyed it. Just thought I’d share a bit about my kids with you as well.
Thank you for this. I’ll check out your blog tonight.
It’s bizarre how much more they seem to change with the passage of time than we do. Is that crazy to believe? I still feel like 7th grade me some days. But I feel like my daughter doesn’t even sound like the little girl she was at four or three.
Thanks so much for your thoughtful comment.
NEVER THE SAME DAY TWICE-LOVED THIS X.
Truly. While I complain of feeling a Grounghog’s Day sort of redundancy to our schedules and habits, each day really does tick incrementally towards their eventually leaving. Sigh.
Thanks for reading.
happy birthday 🙂
And what a birthday it was! Click on the U2 post to see her Doc McStuffins cake. 😊
Thanks so much for reading.
Reblogged this on Mark DeWitt and commented:
What a touching story of childhood, and the precious moments we can grab hold of.
Thanks for the kind words and the reblog, Mark.
Love this! Glad to read there are more parents out there that think like this 🙂
I can’t promise to feel such sentimental, kind-hearted things when she’s whining, then crying, then screaming to be carried down the steps. Ha! But once they’re in bed and I can finally sit down, yes, I think sweet thoughts about my children.
Thanks for reading and commenting.
I still find it hard to believe my first born is starting 1st grade this year, and after just having my first and only little girl 2 weeks ago, I cherish every minute of just watching her sleep and holding her knowing how quickly she will be running circles around me and starting her own little life while needing me less and less. Thanks for the read. From one mommy blogger to another I hope to one day reach as many people as you have.
Thank you. And I’m absolutely jealous that you have a newborn right now. And that you know enough to record every bit of it. It really has flown by all too quickly.
Beautifully written! You bought tears to my eyes.
Ah, thank you for that.
It’s beautiful, a lovely tribute to your daughter. This started me thinking that I should start a blog about my granddaughter. Keep on writing it’s straight from the heart.
.
Thank you for your kind words.
Write it all down. It slides away too darn quickly. (And I bet if you have a granddaughter you already know that better than I do!)
Reblogged this on Crazy On The Farm and commented:
Precious!! Good job of soaking in those fleeting moments. So many times they are whisked away and we didn’t take time to savor them…even for a dot!
Yes, exactly. Too many things slipping by. Thank you for visiting and commenting.
That was beautiful and well written. Keep the dream a reality.
Thanks for that sweet comment.
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This is beautiful, my son turned 2 not long ago and I felt the same about how different the 1 yr old to 2 yrs old age gap is, really not a baby anymore. It sounds like you’ve completely and utterly made the most of her and her 4yr old self. Enjoy the 5yr old.
I am enjoying my five-year-old. I already can’t believe how much she’s grown and changed. She just scored her first goal in soccer. How in the world did that happen?!
Enjoy that two-year-old.
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Just beautiful! Made me well up and smile at the same time. What gorgeous heartfelt words. It goes so fast – my big girl is 6 now and my baby boy will be 4 in Feb! xxx
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