I wanted to write a sweet memory post about this little dude today, on the day he turns four.
It was hard to get in the mood for this type of nostalgic, reflective writing. Honesty, I’m still not in the mood. We’re all in a bad way today. School burnout. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, everyone.
The kids keep reminding the baby of all the things he SHOULD get on his birthday, like special food and presents, when no presents have been bought (because he’s four, doesn’t need anything, and but for the reminders from others, really wouldn’t care), and the cake hasn’t been made yet.
Last year on this day, our family celebrated the birthday of our second daughter. She had submitted a detailed list of what she wanted ahead of time. Among other things, she wanted a party.
We’d just gotten back from our trip to Tobago. We were exhausted. Our state had just gone into lockdown. Like most of the country, we were utterly frozen. I hate birthday parties, and would have taken ANY excuse not to have one: The pandemic was an easy, universal, and necessary NO to nearly every social engagement.
This year, my oldest girl turns twelve and my youngest girl turns 6. Two will never be twice as old as Five again. Five, at six, is no longer a baby.
She’s ten today.
This is the kid who made me breakfast this past week without being asked.
Who cares for her baby brother without a second thought, a special bond they’ve had since his birth.
She is a graceful dancer, a thoughtful and caring person. 
When things going smoothly at home, it’s often related to her – an idea she had to keep everyone occupied, or because she helped prepare a meal or snack. She is one of just a couple kids in our house who cleans up without being asked, and is a quiet and capable helper.
This is a kid who needs her alone time and often retreats to her room to play or read.
She’s expressive. She’s the one who often best knows how to read people, intuiting what they want or need.
She’s grown up this year, gaining maturity and starting to look and act like a Big Kid. Really, she’s the one who made us a Big Family and put us out of our depth in the first place, then helped us realize that we could, in fact, do this. She continues to be the grease on the wheels, the quiet force that keeps things moving.
We love her so much.
