You have now reached the stunning age of 55 months. Stunning, because I look at you now and you seem to have left all that toddler behind and you are full-on little girl. When people haven't seen you for a few weeks, they always remark how old you suddenly appear. I agree. It's blowing me away.
You are joy in the form of your life force. Your energy brings the room up more than down. You trounce around in the most fabulous get-ups, and your style is at once flamboyant, happy, and little girl. You have also ended your phase of "it's too hard". It was short-lived, thankfully, but still shocks me that it existed at all.
You want everyone to be happy, or at least you want Connor to be happy. If he gets in trouble for being mean to you, you come to his defenses quickly, You will sob, in fact, begging for him to not be in trouble. And really, the biggest punishment we dole out around here is the occasional "no treat at bedtime" and the even more occasional "no books before bed". The worst punishment we have in this house is "you must stay right beside me". My freedom-loving children would love to get a chance at a naughty chair or time out. But, nonetheless, even watching these punishments seem to be too much for you.
Your class. It amazes me. You have somehow lucked into having the best pre-school teacher on the planet, and then had the class filled with the most wonderful peers. Almost all of them will be moving to the next class with you next year, and that is such a blessing. You'll have Connor's Kindergarten teacher and I'm really looking forward to it. You play with everyone in your class and love each of them dearly. A few weeks ago, however, your dad found a bunch of rocks in your pocket. This is not particularly odd, but when he asked you why they were there, you told him "those aren't rocks, Dad, they're broccoli! Sometimes, we get mad at G. and throw them at him on the playground". I have yet to get to the bottom of this story, but I'm guessing you don't actually hit him.
You have yet to walk in a straight line, or walk for very long, frankly. When we walk the halls of Connor's school, we must NOT step on the red, or the cracks, and we must skip, or sashay, or gallop! Really, Mom, it's not hard and it's fun!
You have taken to calling everyone "buddy", which I finally figured out last Saturday is what Connor's t-ball coach calls everyone. It's pretty funny hearing it from you. "Hey Buddy, it's OK Buddy". You also call your dad "papa".
You have yet to tire of Pippi Longstocking. This is killing me. Thankfully, you're still willing to read about Tiptoes Lightly, which is a lot more enjoyable for me! You preform the occasional puppet show, love to run a baby hospital, and also like to sell pets to me. Always fun, my love.