Auburn Gal Always

Saying "goodbye"

(note: I began this on Friday and was, naturally, interrupted and unable to finish until Saturday morning. Stinkerbell is still sleeping this birthday morning. So, until she wakes up, *I* still consider her to be 5!)

Today is Stinkerbell's last day of being 5 years old.

She's terribly excited about turning 6 tomorrow.

Me, not so much.

Today is Clown Day at her school. We don't have a clown costume. We don't have a clown wig. I refuse to go buy or rent a clown costume for one day at school. Were this October or early November, I would probably splurge and buy a Halloween costume for Stinkerbell to wear today. But because her school has chosen mid-January to suggest the kids dress as clowns, my only options are to go to the local party store and buy or rent one there. No, thank you.

Ain't gonna happen.

So, she wore uneven pigtails with fluffy mismatched thingys around them. And sparkly stickers on her face. And purple eyeshadow and pink lipstick on her nose. A purple striped shirt, ordinary khakis rolled up unevenly and striped socks.

She was pleased. And it only cost me the extra dressing time this morning and the stress of being almost late.

At 2pm, this afternoon, her class has snack-time. Her lunchroom provides cake, chips and drinks for those having a birthday whose parents wish to spring for the cost of the "party". The cake and chips and drinks feed 20 kids - more than enough for her class of 15. $28. Not too bad. I'll arrive in time to pick up the party pack and slice the cake while sitting in a kindergarten-sized chair.

I think the kindergarten-sized chair will be the real challenge. Rather getting OUT of the kindergarten-sized chair. But it's worth it to make Stinkerbell feel special and let her celebrate her birthday with her school friends.

Tomorrow is her big day. She is terribly excited. She has told me that she will be a big girl tomorrow. And will have to pretend to be a little girl for me when I want to play that game.

pretend

It has a cruel new meaning I've never felt before.

A few weeks ago she asked me to brush her teeth for her.

"You can brush your own teeth. You do it every day. Why do you want my help with this?"

"Well, because I thought you'd wike to help me with it one moah time before I'm a big girl and all you can do is remember me being wittle."

"Come here you."

So, as of tomorrow, I have to begin remembering fondly and pretending pretending more.

That's ok with me.

Goodbye 5 year-old Stinkerbell.

Mommy loves you all the way to the moon and back to my heart.

I can't wait to hold my 6 year-old big girl.

I wonder if she'll feel different in my arms.

This growing up thing sucks.