She was born on the morning of April 7, 2007 - on the day before Easter. She arrived at the perfect time in the morning- not too early, not too late. My labor wasn't intense, my love for her however, was. It felt like hours, though it was just moments, before I knew that she
, was indeed a she. After our family and friends were gone and we were all alone for the very first time, I knew that everything would be fine even if it wasn't. Holding her, simply because I could and not because she needed to be fed or changed, was the first time in my entire life that I felt home in the body I was in. The moment I was in. You know those times when you get tangled up in lifes messiness and you go home again so that you can feel content and firmly planted back into reality, even if its just for a few hours/days/week? Holding her, holding my little family - just the two of us - was the first time I felt that same sense of contentedness right where I was standing (or sitting). I've never, ever, ever
, stopped feeling that way. She is where my home is.
Turning one. The milestone. The first time I realized my baby wouldn't stay my baby
forever. There would be candles and cakes in her future. Presents and family and chaos and crying and more milestones.
A few days before she turned three she got her first pair of glasses. Needless to say that after hearing my four month old was blind, hearing that she needed glasses at age two- however teensy the chance of her getting full or even half use out of them, was the best news thus far. Two was hopeful in the most unbelievable of ways.
My three year old. Three was the year she became a water baby. I had one of the best summers ever, watching her enjoy the sunlight, the splashing. Water. She welcomed barbies, babies, dolls and stuffed animals into her life-- not to play with, to merely exist beside her. Three was a very sweet year.
Four little candles before a little girl. Four months into being four, she started pre-school. October fourth she was diagnosed with an Autistic Disorder. (I learned she was blind at four months old. Four is tricky number). If I'm honest with you- age four
was tricky. Heartbreaking some days, and amazing the rest. She wrote her name for the first time. Found Easter eggs for the first time. Pointed to colors. Letters. Numbers. Fell in love with every single part of a word. Words
Five. FIVE. People have talked about this age as one that is another big milestone. Kindergarten begins at five. More independence sought. Thinner carseats. Bigger poop. Full-sized backpacks. No more training wheels. Fairy wings come in.
I'm not sure what exactly I'm looking for at five. I know that I can't stop saying it. Five, baby. you're a five year old. Holy crap.
On her birthday eve this year she couldn't sleep. Tossing and turning and singing to herself in her big girl bed surrounded by all things Gia. I couldn't sleep either. Like a normal person, I scooped her up in my arms and snuggled with her in my bed, so that we could ring in five
She asked me if she could have presents for her birthday.yes, baby.
She asked me if she could have four of the movies already in her collection.of course you can.
She told me, in the same manner that she usually tells me, what her tomorrow will be.... that tomorrow we will: "wake up in the morning, have breakfast in the morning, have waffles, use syrup dip, brush our hair mommy in ballerina bars (because she doesn't say buns, and she corrects me when I correct her), and we'll watch a movie, and play outside, and brush our teeth, and be five, and have an adventure, and have lunch and crackers and soda, can we have soda at our party, mommy? (yes, baby),
and have presents, eat chocolate cake, read books, play letters, have a mermaid bath, mommy, can she have a green mermaid bath with splashing? can you tell her : "mermaid, mermaid, mermaid!" 5 times? no, no, 100 times? (yes, gigi).
Mommy, can we do that?absolutely.
She's speaking to me. Yes, it is in the third person, and it is one fluid sentence, and she is busy moving her hands and feet while she is telling/asking/yelling her sentence.
...but this is our milestone. This is five. FIVE. This is what it means. She talks to me about being five and everything in between and I take none of it for granted. I cried when she told me that we would go on adventure on her birthday, because she was right. We did five years ago and we will again. We do every day.
She echos my speech and those around her much less. There are times, when overwhelmed or nervous, that she will echo questions or make sweet sentences full of beautiful words that have no connection or relation to one another according to my ears, but make every bit of sense to her....but less so than before. Organic sentences.
One of my favorite phrases. Its taken a long time to get to this spot where we are. Tonight, we went to the grocery store and she pointed, with her whole hand, to a something over head. She asked what it was. What shape was it? Is it blue? Green? Red? Tiring as it is to always answer "what's that?" questions from a
five year old, I will gladly keep doing it because she is asking me about something new.
I'm not sure if she always wondered about her world, and could never say the words, or if she simply hadn't seen something yet that compelled her to explore, but for whatever reason I feel so, so lucky that I get to go on this adventure every day.
Welcome, five... we've been waiting for you.