In a few hours, you will be FIVE Years Old.
I truly can’t believe that I’ve blinked my eyes and those little 2 lb 3 oz babies have grown into these rambunctious, full-of-life five year olds. There are so days I get so frustrated by your continuous energy, non-stop talking, and attitude – and then I remember how far we’ve come, and I’m a little bit grateful, too.
We’ve had the good fortune of letting you stay home with daddy this last year. Oh, yes, you still attended “school”, but in the form of a 10 hours a week at a local church and not 50 hours a week in a daycare. You’ve both been healthier – and happier. No more whining about “we never get to play with our toys”. You eagerly dash off to school, but you also enjoy the time you get to lounge at home with Daddy. I hope you’ll remember this year and that special time you got to spend with Daddy when you got older.
Once again – time has deceived me. I didn’t think you’d changed all that much this year until I looked back at the pictures from last year. Then I realized how much you had matured, how the “baby look” was completely gone from your face. And, when I look back from 5 to 3 – I’m really astonished at how far you’ve come.
This has been a good year. Both of you have become very independent. You can take care of your bathroom needs without help, dress yourself, put yourself to bed, brush your own hair & teeth, walk through the stores without being carried, and most recently, buckle your own seatbelt. And, after five years, we’re slowly eliminating your afternoon naps. So many little things that show how big you’ve become.
Oh, Morgan, you are still my independent child. A little stubborn with quite a bit of attitude thrown in – I see a lot of myself in you. And even with that tough exterior, you are still my little girl. Your favorite thing these last few months is to curl up on our laps and ask for a backrub. You crave the touch and companionship. You love us feriousciously, and for that, I wouldn’t trade the world.
You are sooooo close to reading. Tonight you sat in my office and sounded out several short, rhyming words (cat, hat, pig, wig, cot, pot). I know when you break that barrier that we’ll have a hard time keeping you from spending your days in a corner curled up with a good book. Your language and expressions continue to amaze me. These days, I find myself defining words for you correctly. And, days later you will use it in proper context and form. You can count and identify numbers to 100. Your favorite “game” when we go to the store is to tell us the prices.
This entire year, you’ve been our little artist. If in doubt, we’ll look for you at any one of the drawing stations you’ve managed to set up around our house. You draw lots of pictures – they all have a little girl in them. Sometime this fall, the little girl started wearing a pony tail – and then later this spring, a bow in her ponytails. Girls are always differentiated by triangle bodies (because those are dresses). And, there is typically suns, rainbows, and always a swingset.
Tanner, you are still my good-hearted clown. You are so compassionate –if someone is hurt or upset, you are the first one to run to their aid. You understand pain – and it’s clear that you don’t want others to have to experience that. You are so very sensitive – whenever someone leaves, you instantly miss them. And, most importantly, you love to hear people laugh. You’ll clown around and do almost anything to hear people chuckle.
You’ve come a long ways, this year, too. You’ll act like you don’t know how to do something – but when consequence are involved, you’ll surprise us with just how much you can really do. Count to 100? No problem if a reward is involved. Can’t go to the circus without writing your name? You sat down and wrote it without much assistance. You learn so much by observing those around you – we often underestimate your abilities.
This spring, you started soccer alongside your sister. We really thought that Morgan would enjoy soccer more than you would. She had shown more interest in sports – but when we started playing, we saw a light go on. You run, kick the ball, and aren’t scared to duke it out with a bigger kid. We’re so proud that you get in there and participate with such gusto.
Your favorite thing this last year has been fire trucks, “Bob the Builders”, Matchbox cars, and Legos. You spend hours lining up your cars and playing with them. You’ll get out your firetrucks and then use the Legos to build a firehouse. You can contently build and play for hours – with or without your sister. And, somedays, you just want it to be you. You’ll pack up your firetrucks and carry them back to your bedroom to quietly play on your bed. Sometimes, it’s ok to have some “me” time.
Being a “mom of twins” has been such a blessing to me. It was evident to us early on that you guys had a bond we might never understand.
Even when you were separated in daycare, you were still close friends.
And, this year where you have spent nearly every waking moment with each other, your friendship has only gotten stronger. Morgan, I took you for a haircut this spring, and as we got ready to leave, you approached Tanner and told him “please don’t get another girlfriend while I’m gone”. On more than one occasion, you told us that you were going to “marry each other” and that “it’d be ok because when we get older we won’t tattle on each other”.
I sincerely hope that the friendship and love you have as twins will continue throughout your life.
I love you both so much. I really feel like I’ve blinked and that time has gone so quickly – and yet it’s hard to imagine a time when the two of you weren’t around. I enjoy this newfound freedom (and full nights sleep) that has come with my big kids, but I also miss the cuddle time that we used to get when you are little. My favorite thing about this age is your ability to reason and carry on conversation – even on the days when we flit from topic to topic. And, even thought I didn’t think it was possible five years ago, my love for you grows every day.
Happy 5th birthday, Morgan & Tanner. I love you both so much.
Love,
Mommy
