My dearest Bean-

5. Five. The big 0-5. You’re 5! You’ve heard over and over again about how when you were born, you came into the world screaming and you didn’t stop for 3 hours no matter what we did. And you’ll probably continue to hear the story until the day we die because that, kid, is how we knew we were in for one heck of a ride with you. Some kids are mellow and some kids go with the flow. You’re not one of them. You were born knowing your own mind and heaven help the person who doesn’t agree. But you know what, Beaner? That’s a gift. Yes, it’s a trait that will give me grey hair and sleepless nights- but it will be one of your biggest assets and I hope you never lose your sense of self.  Because your self is awesome.

My gorgeous beach baby

This year, you’ve just exploded. I mean, we knew you were a smart kid but this year it’s become apparent more then ever as you embraced school. I don’t need to buy you toys, I just need to buy you puzzles, paper and markers. You write your letters whenever and where ever and you’re constantly asking how to spell this or that. You don’t seem to care much about reading yet- but I have no doubt one the pieces fall into place for you, you will. You love to be read to and you’re interested in everything from Diego to Harry Potter.

So far you haven’t been a sport nut like your brother, and that’s fine. I wasn’t into sports either. But you’re a good spectator as long as we have food. You eat like a bird at most meals- but that’s most likely because you’re snacking (whether you’re allowed to or not) during the day. Go-Gurts, cherry tomatoes and strawberries are your favorite. As a result, the Stain Stick is my best friend as I try to keep your clothes clean.  You don’t like ice cream or cake- something that makes me question whether your my kid or not almost daily.

You are crazy fun, kid- with a quick wit that astounds us. You have the attitude of a 15 year old and can throw a “duh” at me like a pro. You get in trouble every time you do, but you don’t seem to care as long as you had your say. (See above about the grey hair). You’ve been “in love” with two 9 year olds for the past year and to their credit, they think you’re awesome and put up with your crush. That said, if you could hurry up and move on to your “boys are icky” stage for your father’s sake, that would be great.

I’ll remember 4 as the year you learned to be friends with girls. Before this school year, all your friends were boys thanks to your brother and the only girl in your immediate orbit wasn’t someone you clicked with. So it was a relief to see you make friends- good and proper friends- with other girls this year. We talk a lot about what being a good friend means and how friends treat each other- I really hope that sinks in and that you pay attention to me and my girlfriends. You’ll never, ever go wrong with kindness, kiddo.

You, Bean, are the fire in our life. Your brother- he’s my mini-me. He and I are on the same wavelength and we’ll always get each other. But you? You are your own person through and through. Scorch made me a mother, but you, sweet girl, will help me grow in this role. I love you more than macaroni and I thank God every day for you.

Love,
Mommy

Scorch started talking early- and once he did, he took off. The boy was a whiz at talking in complete, clear sentences long before he should have been. The Bean, on the other hand, took a little bit longer to talk. And why shouldn’t she- she had Scorch to do all her talking for her. She still has this funny inflection (accent?) when she talks- “girls,” for example, is “gurls.” And “yellow” is “lellow.”  It’s freaking adorable and I never, ever want her to learn to say the words properly.

That said, I’m kinda thinking we should have never taught her to talk, period. Because girlfriend has mastered the fine art of ripping you a new one.  I’ll give you an example.

Two week ago, Bean got it in her head that she wanted to sleep in our bed. Now, we don’t let the kids sleep in our bed for a variety of reason- it’s reserved for illness and emergencies only. She knows this full well, but she got the idea in her stubborn little head that the only place she’d fall asleep that night was our bed and she wasn’t budging.  It was the Hub’s night to monitor bedtime, so I was in the other room eating a late dinner, eavesdropping on what was going on.

Hubs: I said, you’re sleeping in your own room. That’s nonnegotiable.

Bean: Oh yes it is! I said* I wanted to sleep in your room, so I’m going to sleep in your room. Period**.
(*you gotta really emphasis the “said” in your best “you’re-an-idiot-Dad” tone. **I may say “period” for emphasis a lot. She may have gotten that for me.)

Hubs: No, you’re not. In your room. Now. Goodnight! (he starts to walk out of the room)

Bean: Get back in here. We are not done talking! I told you what I wanted to do, so that is what I’m going to do.

Hubs: Excuse me? I said get into your room now and I wasn’t kidding.

Bean: Fine. But we are not done discussing this and we will talk tomorrow.

At this point, I’m laughing so hard in the other room that I’m crying.  But honestly, I don’t know if they really were tears of laughter or fear because we are royally, royally screwed when that child gets older.

Pray for us.

PS- wouldn’t change that sass pot for a million dollars. She may make us crazy, but man oh man- she is going to set the world on fire when she’s older!

For the past few weeks, the Bean has fallen asleep on her floor on an old nap mat from preschool. I can’t imagine it’s all that comfy, but what the heck do I know. It makes her happy and she falls asleep quickly so we’re just rolling with it for now.  When either the Hubs or I go to bed a few hours later, we move her into her bed, turn on her night lights and close her door.

Evidently all this has blown her mind.

Mom- there’s something weird going on.

What?

Every night I fall asleep on my floor with the lights off and my door open. But when I wake up, I’m in my bed, the light is on and my door is closed! I don’t know how that happens!!

Now, the first time she said that to me, I thought she was being sarcastic and joking with me, which is why I answered like I did.

Did you think maybe it was me or Daddy that moved you?

No (the “duh” was very clearly implied in her best impression of a 14 year old), you two are already in bed when this happens.

Hmmm…so what do you think is going on, Bean?

Magic.

Dear lord, don’t let 4 year olds (even those who think her parents are dumb as dirt) ever change!

Yesterday was a good day. We went to church and no one had a meltdown. We came home, ate lunch and the boys went to a baseball clinic while the Bean and I went and got our toes done at a local spa.

She asked if we could live at the spa.

You can’t see it here, but her fingers are purple and pink and her toes are red and green (because green is Scorch’s favorite color, natch).

That night, I made the family a turkey dinner and then I went out with my girlfriend for 3 wonderful hours of laughter, drinks and bar food. I got home around 11 to find the Bean laying in bed, wide awake. That’s never a good sign- and also why I wasn’t even slightly surprised to be woken up by a sick kid at 3:40 this morning. Poor bug got some sort of stomach bug, so she spent all day laying next to me looking as pitiful as possible while still managing to marvel over how her nail polish was still there.

In sickness and health, it’s nice to know that there is a girly-girl buried under the layers of tomboy!