Mya turns five on Friday. Five, it seems so old. I haven’t referred to Mya as a baby for a long time, I held on to toddler for a while, but I’ve avoided kid as long as possible. Age 5 seems to suggest that she is a kid. Her age can be recognized by a whole hand, she is currently in school, she dresses herself, she uses sassy language at least 3 times a day, she properly wears accessories, and has enough actual friends to warrant a birthday party. Mya is certainly almost five, whether I accept it or not. Due to a civic holiday this weekend we threw her a birthday party last Sunday. After many years of getting to know myself, I have learned a few things. For one, I could nicely be referred to as a neat freak but more appropriately be described as an organizational fanatic, verging on OCD tendencies. Although I love my friends and family, I prefer not to be surrounded by people I don’t really know in a social setting, at my own house, more accurately described as a party. I delved on these realizations the night before Mya’s 5th birthday party as Travis and I were completely reconstructing our house to make room for Mya’s friends and their parents. I realized at that moment it would have been a better idea to take Mya and a few of her friends to an amusement park and not invite them all over for a science themed birthday party in our tiny home. At that moment, however, there was no turning back. The girls arrived on time Sunday wearing pink dresses and holding brightly colored bags filled with Monster High Dolls and Lego sets. Mya raced to the door with each arrival, hugging her friends, and welcoming them into our home, she is a much better host than I am. I was surprised, that at age 5, parents do not actually stay for the festivities, infact the majority of parents barely stayed long enough for me to introduce myself, racing from our door as fast as they could. For the next 3 hours our house was filled with screaming and laughing and running, cotton candy and cookies, tissue paper and bows. I recognized Mya’s laugh throughout the day, I heard it most among the chaos, her confidence with her friends, her acceptance as her role of host as she showed her friends around and helped them when they needed something. We sang happy birthday and unprompted Mya asked if her friends would help her blow out the candles on her cake. Ellie amazingly slept through the entire party. And without even realizing that the time had gone by we were handing out gift bags and saying goodbye to Mya’s friends as they raced from our front door, mouths sticky from sugar, hair tangled from running, and I’m hoping, with cheeks sore from laughing. We all survived Mya’s first real birthday party. I think maybe we could handle another in 365 days, but check with me in May. Her actual birthday, however, I may not handle so seamlessly. I may fight back tears when she wakes up and I sing happy birthday in my loudest possible voice. At 12:10pm as I remember that first moment, when I became a mom, I may get goose bumps on my arms. When we let her stay up a little later, because now she is officially a 5 year old kid, I am confident I will hug her and hold her and tell her how proud I am of her, because without a doubt she will be the sweetest, kindest, bravest, funniest, and smartest 5 year old that I have ever spent time with. Then when I go to sleep on Friday I may peek back in on my Mya, sleeping in her bed and I will think, “she was only just a baby, just yesterday I feel like she was a baby,” and I will cry a little, a tear that is sadness mixed with pride, because that’s what birthdays do to a parent, they allow us to celebrate our child’s growth while at the same time helping us remember that time moves faster than we ever thought possible, each year moving quicker than the last.
MyaAndEllie on Sisters MyaAndEllie on Happy Birthday Eloise Megan on Happy Birthday Eloise Kerry on Sisters MyaAndEllie on Sisters