Dear Brynlee: On Your 5th Birthday





Brynneee Boo-

My little girl, you’re five!  I can hardly believe it’s already time for me to write you another birthday letter.  One year older.  It seems a daily occurrence that dad and I comment about how big you’re getting and how fast you and your little brother are growing up on us.  I mean, you’re already five for crying out loud,

Last Thursday we registered you for Kindergarten.  Your feelings were mixed – as were mine.  Excited, nervous, overwhelmed, eager, anxious, thrilled.  You told me you were a little scared because you have to go all.day.long and that’s a really, r e a l l y, REALLY long time.  But in the same breath you told me that you couldn’t wait to go to Kindergarten to learn to read, and to meet your new teacher, and to find new friends, and to eat lunch at school.  I think with all the mixed emotions, excitement trumps them all.  You are so excited for your new adventure.  And I am so excited for you and your new adventure.  I hope that you love it.  And I think you will.

When you were younger, 1, 2, 3, even at the start of your 4^th year, you were such a shy, timid little thing.  If I had to choose one word to describe you in those first few years of life ‘shy’ would be my word.  Eye contact, conversation, social settings, people you didn’t know, even people you did know, scared you.  Not so much anymore, you are more confident in yourself and more comfortable with others.  You make friends easily, you share your opinion, you make eye contact, you stand up for yourself.  And although you would much prefer playing with a close friend to a large group of acquaintances, I would no longer chose shy or timid or reserved as my number one word to describe you.

And even though you’ve always been a bit hesitant in social settings you are fearless, a thrill seeker, adventurous still the same.  You love the ‘big rides’ at Lagoon, you go down the steepest sledding hill crossing your fingers that you will hit the bump, you learned to do flips on the tramp and ride your bike without training wheels the summer after you turned four.  You climb trees, love when dad throws you in the air, and beg to lead the way when hiking.  You jump off things, climb on things, and aren’t scared of new adventures.  A few weeks ago you attended a birthday party at a local gymnastics establishment.  They had a zip line that started at one side of the gym and finally ended in a large pit of foam squares on the other side.  One little boy, probably 9 or 10, held onto the zip line debating if he really wanted to allow his feet to leave the edge.  While he debated, you waited patiently in line.  He finally hung his head and climbed back down the ladder.  Without time for a second thought you took his place, accepted a boost from a nearby adult, grabbed hold of the zip line, and dismounted into the foam cubes.

Today when doing our morning brush and floss I noticed that you had a lose tooth.  The front, bottom one.  I got that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, because there’s no way you are old enough to be losing teeth.  You on the other hand were beyond ecstatic.  Since our neighbor girl lost her first tooth at five, you think that losing teeth is the age five rite of passage.  We were at Aunt Jami’s house and you insisted on making a phone call to dad at work to let him know.  And the rest of the day you sang made-up songs about your teeth falling out.  My teeth are fallin’ out, my teeth are fallin’ out, I’m getting so big ‘cause my teeth are fallin’ out.  And then at bedtime tonight you prayed a hopeful prayer “. . . and thank thee that my tooth will fall out tomorrow!”

Tyson is your best little pre-school buddy.  You adore him.  He taught you to whistle, to properly shoot a basketball at McDonalds, and he draws you the cutest little homemade cards – pictures of the two of you hand drawn on a sheet of notebook paper.   And there is never a pre-school day gone by that you don’t remind me how much you like playing with your best friend, Tyson.  Your friendship is sweet.

This year you took pre-school from Miss Lori, and you have enjoyed every minute of it.  You love Farr’s play-doh ice-cream, your new Webkinz, riding your bike, and going to Outer Limits.  You idolize your Aunt Marie.  And your cousins, Brookee and Livvie, are two of your closest friends.  The other day you came home from pre-school frustrated because one of the taller girls in the class said you were way too short to be a five-year-old.  You wear 4T clothes and last week you outgrew your size 8 tennis shoes.  Sun dresses or skirts and leggings are your clothing of choice.  You will not wear tights, even to dance class.  You can’t stand them.  You enjoy reading hour at the library, family home evening and your dance classes.    You are observant and attentive and a very good listener.  You remember things and notice things that I easily over look and you come home from primary or pre-school and retell me the exact lesson or story that you learned in class that day.  You want to do good, to make people happy, and you get the most guilty of conscious if you do something you know is wrong.

You and Jace are constantly wrestling.  At home in the toy room, on the tramp, on the kitchen floor, at the department store, in sacrament meeting.  Not fighting, just wrestling.  And you both are so content rolling around on the floor trying to win a wrestling match.  It makes me laugh.  Your brother adores you and always tries to make you happy.  If his big sister needs some water, he races to the kitchen to get you a drink.  If his big sister needs her stuffed animal, you better believe he is on the hunt to find it.  And in return you protect your little brother.  One of my favorite things is when you tell him “Jace buddy, you are such a handsome little fellow.”

Brynlee, I love you so much.  I take so much pride in raising you and your little brother.  Being a mother fulfills me in a way that nothing else ever could.  I’m so lucky!  And I know it. 

XOXO,

Mom