Five

One, two, three, four, five.  It feels like that.  So fast.  In a flash.  Another birthday.  Don’t move.  Don’t look now. But my BABY GIRL is FIVE.

 

And she will always be my baby.  The one who completed our family.  The one with the big eyes.  The one with the amazing head of curls.  The one with the biggest heart.  The one who runs from the car when she sees a friend so she can hold their hand.  The one who wants extra kisses for her pocket.  The one who says “I love you” all day long.  The one with the stubborn streak.  The one who loves ballet.  The one who loves music and knows all the words to every popular song.  The one who lovingly names every single one of her stuffed animals.  The one who loves pizza with fresh basil and black olives.  The one who adores her brother.

This one.

I still stare at her and can’t believe she’s mine.  She wants her independence but (thank goodness) she still wants to cuddle, hold my hand, and crawl into bed with me when she wakes up before the sun.  She likes to pick out her own clothes and shoes now.  She also asks to get her nails done.  She finally loves her bike and is excited to start soccer this spring.  She’s our little social butterfly who constantly talks about her friends. She loves to go on adventures and tells us she will live in New York City one day.

I remember the day you were born.  Every detail.  And now you’re five, Annabel.  One, two, three, four, five. Five.  FIVE.

Happy Birthday, baby girl.  I love you.