Dear Birdygirl on Your 5th Birthday,

I hear you, Association!  WTFellers have I been? What about the update to the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge? When are we going to hear about OPRAH?!? What is going on?   

To say things have been chaotic would be an understatement.  The plague descended upon our home, rendering WTFather Man Sick. The Professor has entered some sort of clingy phase that is currently standing fast at level Let Me Back Into Your Ute.  School started and WTFather and I Birdy has homework every. single. night. Preschool, people. There was a holiday weekend which meant I had to clean my house my family was in town to visit.  And last, but certainly not least, my bitty baby Birdygirl turned FIVE!  Whaaaaat?  So because we all know who runs this show what is close to my heart, this one had to come first.  So please indulge me while I brag about my awesome kid send a shout out to my biggest little.  Hit the jump for a best-of Birdyisms and stories from her 5th year.

Dear Birdygirl,

Today you turn five.  I don’t know how 5 years went so quickly, and yet I feel as if you’ve always been here.  Maybe it’s because I really, truly, am so damn tired that my long term memory has been affected feel as if my life started when yours did? I’m sure you’d prefer a  less sentimental reason. You aren’t a very sentimental child.  But that’s okay.  You’re still the most awesome Birdygirl I know.

You are loved so much by so many.  I often wonder if there is any child in the world more loved or cherished.  You have an entire army of people behind you waiting to see where you will go.  We’re happy to tag along because you’re so much fun to follow.

You were born on a Tuesday.   According to the bqofspoem, that would mean you are full of grace.  The poem is not accurate.  Freakish strength? Abnormal speediness? Cirque du Soleil flexibility? Yes.  Grace? Not so much.  You recently started figure skating lessons.  So far you are displaying all of the gracefulness of a dodo bird riding a newborn foal… on ICE.

But you are sticking with it!  You weren’t sure at first.  You’ve been telling everyone who will listen “I fall on my butt a lot, but I’m getting lots better!”  I believe you.  Because you have never not done anything you said you were going to do.  I hope you keep that, kiddo.  (That’s you in the gif.  I have no doubt next year’s post will include video of you landing a dodeca lutz with a twist AND flair.  I also fully expect you to yell, “Suck it, toe pick!” when you land, because that’s how you roll.

birdy5th2You are an excellent big sister.  You were made for it.  One of your many true, natural talents is your ability to find the perfect balance between loving and terrorizing your brothers.  They will never forget that you’re in charge.  They will rue the day they challenge you.  But that’s unlikely to happen because they adore you with the energy of a million suns.  (Or as you would say, a Googleplex + infinity + ONE HUNDRED + a princess + a dragon + all the moon and stars. Because everyone knows, that’s the biggest number ever and it’s how much I love you.)  Often, strangers who learn your siblings are two little boys ask me if I’m going to try for a sister for you to help you defend against the boys.  It always makes me laugh.  Because anyone who knows you knows that it’s the boys who could use some back-up.  You are especially kind to WTWhammy.  He is your baby, after all.  At least, that is if anyone asks you.  The Professor gets on your nerves.  A lot.  But for every time you come running to me to tell me that he’s bothering you, there are at least 10 times that I see you helping him out, teaching him new things and dispensing older-wiser advice.  You even tell him that you love him.  And I still occasionally find you sleeping next to him on mornings after stormy nights.  You got this.  And you aren’t letting go of it anytime soon.  It’s one of the things I’m most proud of as your mom.

In the last year, you’ve become a master of sarcasm, wit, and language. birdy5th4 It’s usually directed at your brothers.  But every once in a while, you join me in teasing your dad. (OMG, it’s the BEST.) You are independent and strong-willed.  Your ability to do things for yourself sometimes leaves me felling a little lost.  I don’t know how you learned to do all of the things you now have mastered.  You don’t need me to brush your teeth or comb your hair.  You are perfectly capable of getting yourself dressed, making a snack, picking up your room… but it’s on those bittersweet days that you are most likely to throw me an “I love you, mama!” or to lay across my lap and ask for a cuddle.  I’ll never, ever get tired of you asking me to “tickle the back just a little bit…  ok, tummy now… ok back again,” and I’ll always want to cuddle. Your hugs are fierce.  The power of them is proof that Einstein might have had that whole  E = mc
thing all wrong.  Because I’m pretty sure that the force of one of your hugs is at least 10xs bigger than 34lbs x the speed of light squared.  I love them.

It’s because of the hilarious things that you say and do that so many people ask about you all the time.  So here are some of the highlights of the Facebook posts you inspired this year.  Happy birthday. I love you, Birdygirl.  I’m so lucky to be your mom.

Birdy refused to finish her milk with her dinner. I challenged her to a chugging contest. She won, but I don’t care because my glass had wine in it.‪#‎collegeprep‬ ‪#‎motheroftheyear‬ ‪#‎tablemanners
Birdyism of the day: “When I grow as tall as you, I will be a grown up and I won’t be your baby girl anymore.” (Notices my sad face.) “It’s ok, mommy. You can still call me your baby… as long as no one hears you.”
I’m pretty sure the line of weeping parents dropping off their precious little ones at Birdy’s preschool for the first time think I’m a terrible parent for emerging from her classroom with a fist-pump and a victory lap around the orientation table. I might have done a cartwheel. There are conflicting witness reports.


So I told Birdy I ate all of her Halloween candy. She said, “That’s ok, mommy. You must have been really hungry. Next time, you should eat real food, though.” Fifteen minutes passes. “MOMMY! You ate (The Professor’s) too?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”
Nothing like getting your day started by getting bombarded by approximately 30 frozen buckeye nuts hitting the floor upon opening the freezer door. Birdy- “I’m saving them for the squirrels. I put them in the freezer because popcicles last FOREVER.”
The Professor has attached to a light blue minky blanket as his transitional object (aka lovey.) He was calling it Ducky; I assume because he was modeling his big sister’s behavior.
Birdy was having none of that. There is only ONE Ducky and that Ducky is HERS.
And that’s how The Professor ended up with a lovey named Stinky.

I’m starting to reconsider our decision to send Birdy to a school that encourages independence, speaking up, and creative problem solving…
Birdy’s version of ‘What Does the Fox Say?”
“What does (The Professor) say? Car ball car ball car ballcar! Where is OPA?”
“What does the (WTWhammy) say? Wah wah wah wah wah wahwah! I have to POOP now.”
Birdy has a friend over for a play date.
Friend to Birdy: “I take medicine to make me poop. Do you?”
Birdy: “No. I eat yogurt. It keeps me regular.”
Friend: “I don’t think it’s working. You aren’t regular at all. I think you’re special.”
Birdy: “I think you’re special too. But everyone still has to poop sometimes.”

It’s pajama day at Birdy’s school. So when she put up a protest to having her hair combed, I decided to really commit to supporting spirit days and sent her to school with bed head. I’m totally winning this mom thing.
Me: “We need to set out some cookies and milk for Santa tonight before you go to sleep.”
Birdy: “Santa likes beer, not milk.”
Me: “Who told you that?”
Birdy: “No one. I just know it.”
Me: “How do you just know it?”
Birdy: “Milk makes you grow tall and strong. Beer makes you old and fat. So, that means Santa likes beer.”
Can’t argue with that logic. Next year I’m going to set her up for thinking Santa likes spa days and a nice Pinot.

It’s Parent-Teacher Conference Day at Birdy’s school. I anticipate hearing a lot of words like: directive, enthusiastic, directive, animated, directive, creative, directive, steadfast…
I think we’ve found Birdy’s sport. Does anyone know of any colleges or universities offering a scholarship for competitive pizza-eating?
Me: “Where did all of this talk about eyeballs come from?”
Birdy: “Draeden.”
Me: “Who is Draeden?”
Birdy: “Oh, he’s just this boy from school who wants to marry me. But I don’t know if I want to marry him. He’s funny, but he always talks about eyeballs. And he’s kind of stinky like a boy.”
Me: “Well, that makes sense. You know, because he’s a boy.”
Birdy: “He doesn’t really stink, mommy. But he does really want to marry me. Don’t tell daddy. He still thinks I’m going to marry him.  I don’t want him to know I’m still thinking about it. I’m a girl who needs options.”

We just returned from a birthday party where a local theatre student made an appearance as Princess Elsa from Frozen. As we were leaving, we ran into her in the parking lot. Birdy ran up to her and asked, “Princess Elsa?! Why are you wearing a coat if the cold never bothered you anyway?”
Birdy in the car today: “Mommy does God love little brothers?”
Me: “Yes.”
Birdy: “Is God a giant or like a regular person?”
Me: “I’m not sure.”
Birdy: “Does he have a pink bedroom.”
Me: “I’m not sure of that either.”
Birdy: “Are you sure he loves little brothers?
Me: “Yes.”
Birdy: “Well at least you’re sure of something, mom.”
Birdy came home clutching a bagful of Valentine’s candy. The Professor approached her and she immediately handed him a lollipop. I was so proud. Until I realized she’d handed him a slimy, sticky, half-eaten Blow-pop.‪#‎Sharing‬. It’s a work in progress.
Today is “Opposite Day” at Birdy’s school. She’s in mis-matched clothes and wearing everything backwards.
WTFather:” You should totally put your jacket on backwards,(demonstrates totally sweet early 90’s rapper pose) then tell everyone you’re ‘wiggity-wiggity-wiggity-whack.'”
Birdy: “Arrrrruggh. Daaaaaad.” (complete with embarrassed head shake and eyeroll)
WTFather: “That kid has absolutely no appreciation of how cool I am.”
For those of you following along at home, Birdy is currently in Wisconsin with WTFather”s cousin and her thundering herd of teenagers. She’s having a blast. I received this update today:
Birdy: “”The sky’s awake so I’m awake so we should go play.”
Emmie (age 14:) “No, this is a remake of Frozen and Elsa stays in bed.”

Anyone who says there are no stupid questions has never had to explain 487 times in one morning why one must wear underpants with a dress when going to school.
Birdy: “Now that I’m four and a half, can I can you Angela?”
Me: “No.”
Birdy: “How about just mom then?”
Me: “I like it when you call me mommy.”
Birdy: “I like it when I call you Angela.”
Me: “Not going to happen.”
Birdy: “It’s happening very soon. Maybe tomorrow even.”

Dreamy neighborhood boy Karl is back to mowing our neighbor’s lawn. Birdy’s stepped up her game this year to include cart wheels, dance moves, and knock-knock jokes in her attempts to impress him. This is a big improvement over last year’s face-plants off of the porch and walking into glass doors.
So if there is any question of which kid is mine at tonight’s Fine Arts Showcase, she’ll be the one in a fairy costume singing her heart out. Nice dress/appropriate dressing mom-fail. ‪#‎notworththefight‬ ‪#‎happybirdyhappylife‬
Birdy: “My new pink princess mouthwash won’t open! Will you please help me?”
Me: “Sure! It won’t open because it has a childproof cap.”
Birdy: “What does that mean?”
Me: “That means only grown-ups can open it.”
Birdy: (Hands on hips, head cocked to the side. “Well, that is RIDICULOUS! WHYYYYY would something for CHILDREN be made so only grown-ups can open it?!? We need to call the people who make this stuff and tell them that they are RIDICULOUS.”
Who teaches her these words?
Birdy, sporting a huge grin, comes in from playing with WTFather in the backyard. “Mommy, I’m here for a time out.”
Me: “Your daddy put you in time-out? What did you do?”
Birdy: “I showed him my butt.”
Me: “You mooned daddy and he gave you a time-out?”
Birdy: “Yep. A LONG one.” **Sits down in time out spot.**
Me: “Was it worth it?”
Birdy: “Yep. It was AWESOME. Gimme some hot sauce.” (Hot sauce is our family’s phrase for a high-five.)
I will now step into another room so I can laugh and ponder the realization that my four year-old has mastered cost-benefit analysis. 


Birdy to The Professor: “You really need to learn to behave more like me. You wouldn’t have to Time Out so much… And I’d like you more.”
The Professor: “Hi! I’m (The Professor!) Do you like dinosaurs?
Birdy: “I knoooooow you’re (The Professor)” **eyeroll** “You don’t have to tell me your name.”
The Professor: “Hi! I’m…. Do you like dinosaurs?”
Birdy: “I don’t like dinosaurs. They don’t wear dresses and I like dresses.”
The Professor: “Oh. Do you like sharks?”
Birdy: (Heavy sarcasm) “Yes. But only sharks who wear dresses.”

“I just got all sorts of sentimental about how big Birdy is getting. So I climbed into bed with her so I could sneak some cuddles and sniff her head. She woke up, looked at me, and said, “Mom it’s creepy when you do this. Go be creepy with The Professor. Or better yet, go be creepy with WTWhammy. He’s a baby. He doesn’t know what creepy is yet.”
I forgot The Professor’s name today. Birdy wrote their names on pieces of paper then offered to wear hers “Like I do at school when there’s a new kid.”



And PS: Because no vanity post would ever be complete without a slideshow, here’s Birdy’s First Five complete with a peppy song and lots of cute.  🙂