Oh my god, five is so much easier than four.
Five is listening and following directions. Five is picking out clothes and getting dressed and out of the house on his own. Five is buckling himself into his booster seat and letting himself out when we get whereever it is we're going. Five is starting to like food again and trying ones that have been snubbed for ages and declaring them to be new favorites. Five is the blueberry bill going through the roof. Five is wanting to help around the house and assisting me with things like making dinner and dusting the bookshelves. Five is entertaining his sister while I swap the laundry or fetching cups of milk while I sleep in for another ten minutes. Five is just about able to read and write and draw things that look like the things they are supposed to be. Five is making art for family and friends and the fridge. Five is being best friends with his sister and having endless kitchen/dress up/monster truck parties. Five is spontaneous hugs and cuddles and joyful giggles and silly faced sing-a-longs.
Five is being in love with the video games. Which ones? Does it have a screen? Yes, then. That one. Well, except for that one. That one's hard. I die all the time. I hate that one.
Five is so weird. Five is being embarrassed by me in public but demanding nighttime snuggles before bed.
Five is hating haircuts. Five is constant Bieber hair flips.
Five is never, ever not talking and every day is filled with a stream of non-sequitors like:
"I fink I DO want to go see space. But not until I'm a grownup."
"Instead of being a fireman, I'll be a doctor because firemans have axes and I'm not so good with sharp fings."
"I am better at girl hockey than boy hockey so I am only going to play girl hockey now."
"Why is your tummy so flappy?"
Five is being a know it all. Five is seven out of every ten breaths staring with "Akshully, mom..." Five is having conversations like this:
Calder: When are we going camping again?
Me: Have you even been camping before?
Calder: In your tummy I did so I know all about it. We'll need sticks to climb a mountain and then we'll tell stories.
Me: We live in Illinois, where are we going to find a mountain?
Calder: Maybe we'll just go to the woods instead but if we see any caves we'll just stay away 'acause there might be bears or bats (goes off on tangent about wild animals that might eat you.)
Oh my god, five is so much harder than four.
Five is having fewer tantrums but the ones he still has are even more forceful than ever before. Five is having all the words which means having the words to say how much he hates me. For having the audacity to ask him to put away his shoes. Or wanting to not have feet on my glass of water. Five is loving his sister right up until she's perceived to have something more or better than him than it's pushing and snatching and whining. Did I mention the never EVER being silent? Five is doing all the talking. ALL THE TIME. Five is getting right up in your face if you do not respond immediately in an appropriate fashion.
Five is thinking that picking up a toy and putting it away to be the most difficult and strenuous activity ever.
Five is knowing enough about reading and math to know that maybe there are people better at it than you and throwing a fit because learning is hard.
Five is being independent. Five is being totally dependent. Five is "I love you, you're so beautiful, now tell me I'm handsome and you love me too." Hairflip
I love five. It's my new favorite.