M. turned six Sunday. That feels like a milestone birthday; a clear delineation between little kid and big kid. Did I say that last year, too?
Even though she’s been through kindergarten, she still felt young, something that was reinforced by knowing she would be attending kindergarten again this year. As if last year wasn’t really kindergarten, just practice for the real thing. Preschool AAA, to put it in baseball terms. After we had put the girls to bed, S. remarked to one of her sisters that it was going to be strange seeing M. put on a school uniform in three weeks. Indeed.
So it was a decent birthday, I think. On Saturday we took the girls out for lunch and then made a trip to the pet store. M. and C. both got to pick out a fish. Each picked a male Betta, so we came home with two fish, two bowls1, a bag of gravel, and some food. After some debate and indecision, M. named her fish Sparkle and C. named hers Spike. Solid names for fish, I think. Hopefully I have better luck with these than the last time I attempted to keep fish.
Sunday M. was wound up. I should say WOUND UP! At one point we had to threaten that there would be no presents that night if she didn’t improve her behavior. Fortunately she calmed down and we made it through the day without following through on the threat. After dinner and cake with the local family, we got to the presents. The girls each got necklaces from their aunts; M. got some Littlest Pet Shop dogs, C. Polly Pockets, and L. a Handy Manny truck from their Mimi; and then we busted out the big gifts.
After months of waiting and asking and begging, the girls finally got their American Girl dolls. Yes, we’ve been roped into that money-suck. Remind me of my complaints the next time I’m salivating over a new Apple product.
They were ecstatic, as was to be expected. The names may change by the time you read this, but M. named hers Ava Ann-Marie and C. calls hers Ashley. L. did not give a name to her Bitty Baby. Well, besides Baby.
So another year down. Seems like just yesterday we were rushing to the hospital to have the first. Now we have three girls, a minivan, two fish, three American Girl dolls, and a lot more gray hairs than we had in 2004. It’s been worth it. Mostly.
- The males can’t live together, you know. All they do is fight. We have enough fighting in this house already. ↩