She's 5

My Llama is 5. Last night I commented on the behavior of 5-year-old's, and it really hit me. My baby is 5. My unexpected, but secretly begged for, bundle of love is 5. My precocious, obnoxious, joyous, boisterous, one-of-a-kind Princess, is 5.

1- you were a blur. 2- you were a delight. 3- you were what I thought 2 would be. 4- you were a rapid-fire pistol with a hair trigger. What does 5 mean? It will be interesting to wait and see.

I will for sure have to be more careful with my sarcastic 'whit'- yesterday she asked me why I wear makeup to church, to which I replied, " so I don't scare people". Well, no more than 20 minutes later, while arguing with her about what she could take to Bible class with her, she agreed to leave the tiara behind, but the purple lipstick was staying in her pink-casted grip. Why? "Because I have to keep putting it on when it comes off, so I am beautiful and so I don't scare people." sigh.

She was doing cartwheels this weekend. Yes- with her cast on, her arm bent at 90 degrees. No, I don't know how. But with her 3 week check up this week, if the doctor suggests a shorter cast, I may ask him how having a free-to-move elbow and cart wheels will affect the healing. Amazing how determined she can be! She was trying to swing on the monkey bars as well. I think if the cast material between her thumb and first finger had not been so bulky, she would have been swinging across them proudly.

I sometimes wonder: what do others think of my girl? What do they think of us as parents? She is forward, open and stubborn. But I truly sometimes have a hard time holding her back. Oh, we expect respect and obedience. But my heart really doesn't want to slow her down. I secretly rejoice in her wild abandon. I admire her bravado. I envy her determination. I don't want to stifle her, so I try to direct her. Several times I have said, and others have told me, that she will be a hand full as a teen. We are hoping to direct her toward things that will allow her to be the joy that she is.

Like a Dandelion. I don't want to pick the wild out of this flower, or try to contain it, only to watch it wither away. I want to see her grow, wildly beautiful, on her own terms. Not easily controlled, looked on with disdain by some as a pesky weed, but loved by others as a fun, happy flower that springs up overnight, ready to play- blow! blow! blow! come dance and twirl in the winds with me! Ah, I can see her- can you?
My Dandelion- made by God, and therefore, worthy of a chance to BE. I pray for God's guidance to help her grow in praise of Him and the flower He has created.

My Dandelion is 5, watch out world- here she comes.