Tinkerbell is finally 5 years old. Waiting for her birthday was torture since The Captain had his in March and The Blitz celebrated in early April. That seven weeks between The Blitz and Tinker seemed like an eternity.
Of the three Littles, Tink’s first birthday with us (age 2) is the easiest to remember. She was a chubby little toddler, barely on her feet and hadn’t really started talking yet. It’s hard to imagine that rolly-polly baby is the big girl we have now. That year of Pre-K just truly matured her; she thinks of herself as a “school girl” now. She loves school so much that she acted out terribly on her last week of school. She had tantrums, she misbehaved outlandishly, and she drove us all a little crazy. Change is hard for everyone but especially for these little ones.
After all that happened at Easter and my new job, she is just too challenging for the “Bigs,” so I wound up placing her in daycare for three days a week during the summer. She needs it and we need it. She’s happy as a clam now. She thrives on structure and the social interaction and has been very well behaved. She’s better at home now too.
At 5, she can count to 100, knows her alphabet of course, and is beginning to read. It’s a safe bet she’ll be reading on a 2nd grade level by the time school starts. She knows the days of the week and is able to track them — “it’s Thursday, right?” — something that is lost on the boys. Her self-care has flourished; she can do her morning routine with help from me only for her ponytail. She thrives on being a “big girl” yet is the most craving of affection, the most likely to ask for a hug or climb on my lap for a while and stay there. I love that too!
She will go to Kindergarten in the fall, attending a nearby charter school. It was “meant to be” because she was selected in the lottery, the #2 pick out of 100 that got in. There are 120 still on the waiting list! Hopefully The Blitz will also get in next year and the two of them can stay there through 12th grade. It’s not a tiny school — they have 5 kinder classes, but it’s a good school with an integrated approach to teaching that suits my sensibilities. They have uniforms, an idea both Tink and I are in love with.
When I look at her, I can’t remember her not being “mine.” When she arrived, she seemed so foreign and now she is indisputably ours. She walks like us, she talks like us, she has our habits.
Yay Tink, yay us!