You've grown up a lot this year. You're still deeply emotional and sensitive. But just like you've been from birth, you're just as quick to snap out of a rage/cryfest as you are to delve into it. We've yet to completely crack the code of what brings it on, and what takes you out of it but you've come a long way in the duration and frequency of these episodes. Being tired and hungry are a big part of it. Where some kids, like your brother, are pretty unfazed by a little hunger, it completely incapacitates you in some instances (and makes you a lot like your mama, some would argue). But you're working on it and trying hard. And I can't say that your passion is entirely a bad thing. Because as deeply and fully as you feel anger and sadness the same is true about your love and happiness. Me doing the simplest things for you (allowing you to eat a cookie, for example) merit not only a thank you, but a passionate hug and several kisses and declarations that I'm the best evvveerrrrr.
You and your brother are still two little peas in a pod. You are each other's best friends and look out for each other. You adore him and couldn't wait for him to get home from school every day. You two plot and scheme all night long and drive us nuts by giggling and playing way too late at night. You're excited to be going to the same school as he is next year. You build theme parks together, make dance videos, plot strategies together to get mom and dad to do what you want to do. You stress your brother out with your free-wheeling ways, spinning and dancing away in the stores while he furtively tries to get you to stay close to us. Whenever another kid asks you your name, you say, "Parker. And that's my brother Griffin."
You still dress up. Every. Single. Day. Without fail. You wore a cat tail with every outfit for a good three months straight. You've worn ballet outfits with green frog rainboots, octopus costumes, princess dresses with cat masks all just to go to the grocery store or to pick up Fin. Mismatched stripes to school (you were a zebra). You've perfected your four legged run so well that you can run faster that way than a lot of kids can on two legs. I've joked that you are half feral. I still have to wrap you in a towel after every bath, so that you can crack out of your "egg" and pretend to be a baby bird/dinosaur/turtle. You requested pegasus wings, unicorn horns and rainbow tails for everyone coming to your birthday party. Your imagination is still so amazing to me.
Soon after your fourth birthday, you started sounding out words on your own. Without any pushing or prompting from me or anyone, you taught yourself to read. In fact, in came to a shock to me and your dad when you all of a sudden could read. At school all they were starting to teach you was what sounds letters make and while we've always been huge readers in our family, we'd never asked you to sound anything out, or tried to get you to read. Almost as amazing has been the speed with which you've become extremely proficient at reading. You rarely need to sound anything out anymore, you can read fluidly, and not just the "easy" books. Daddy caught you the other day with a big book in bed when you were supposed to be sleeping and you told him you were reading it in your head "because its faster that way." Going to a movie you insisted on bringing a book "in case there's parts I don't like." Seeing you walking around stores with a book in front of you so reminds me of myself as a child (though I'm not sure I was as young as you are!) I was rarely without a book and reading has always been a great joy to me. I *love* that you love reading as much as I do, and I can't wait to share more and more books that are near and dear to my heart.
Its not just reading your very good at either, you can count pretty much till someone stops you (at your kindergarten evaluation they had to stop you as you rounded the corner after one hundred and had no signs of stopping) When I asked the teacher if she thought there was anything she thought we may want to work on this summer she declared, "No! You have to leave us something to teach her!"
You fell in love with ballet this year, understandably, as it combines two of your favorite things in the world: dress up and pretending to be something else through movement. You watched a french documentary about ballerinas over and over, despite the fact that you could not understand a word of it. You loved watching the Nutcracker and the bits of ballets I could find. Every time a commercial for the movie Black Swan came on, you'd turn to me and sigh, "oh mama, doesn't that look beautiful?" We bought you some ballet records and you listen to them so often you were able to identify a Tchaikovsky piece off the radio the other day before even I could ("mama! its Cha-Coughsy!"). We were able to sign you for a dance class through school, though there was some ballet, it was not ballet focused. We took you to a free ballet event where you got to participate in a real ballet class and it was breathtaking watching you dance. That feels weird to say about a five year old, but your whole posture and demeanor changed the second you were in front of that teacher. You have such poise. Several people remarked to us about it and we had to admit that this was your first ballet class. You have such control and a natural intuition on how to move your body. You hold your head high, shoulders back, toes perfectly pointed. We're hoping to sign you up for a "real" ballet class this year, as we think its such a perfect outlet for you.
You are still our wild and crazy girl, constantly keeping us laughing and sighing and smiling and growling. Can't wait to see what the next year brings! Love you BIG squirrelly whirl!!