my girl is 5 today.
5.
i don’t feel a day over 16, so there’s something not right about this.

ah…she was the cutest, most amazing baby. she slept through the night early. she didn’t everything early. rolled, sat, talked (first words at 8 months!), walked…everything. an overachiever at such a young age. but she was such a pleasure. my goodness. she was perfect. and then she hit 15 months…and turned into a holy terror. she brought new meaning to the terrible twos (especially since we are only just coming out of them now).

she’s stubborn as a mule. she’s too smart for her own good.
she’s a 16 year old living in a 3 year old’s body (yes, i realize that she’s 5, but she’s still teeny). she’s into Hilary Duff, and Britney Spears, and make-up, and boyfriends (yes, she had one!!).
my goodness, she is so like me it’s not normal.

i think she was put on this earth to test my patience. she can drive me absolutely mental. she makes me want to scream and tear my hair out on a regular basis. she knows which buttons to push with me. she knows that as soon as she says that her stomach hurts i turn to mush. she knows i’m a softie at bedtime. (see what i mean? too smart for her own good).

but, seriously, she’s such an amazing kid. she’s so good at whatever she does. her teachers love her. they say that she’s a pleasure to teach. i’m so lucky to have a child like Emily. she’s bright and witty and funny and loves her brother (even though she’ll never admit it). she loves to cuddle with her mama (when no one’s looking, of course, because, like, cuddling is sooo only for 4-year-olds, mom).