::pooooooooooooof::
Sorry about that. Just had to blow off a little dust around these parts. When last I typed more than a few words, it was ... last year?
Just a few things have happened since then. Holidays and such, you know. There was a trip to Indianapolis, about seventeen trips to various Must Do holiday things, school events, blah, blah, blah. I took two weeks off of work and then used that time to squeeze in as much life as possible.
And memorize Five a little more while I had the chance.
People refer to the Terrible Twos, which I have always said aren't nearly as bad as anybody says. Three is when the nightmares start, and Four? I'll go ahead and let my phone correct it to the Ducking Fours because that's exactly what they are. They're as maddening as fighting with a duck while smashing your head against a wall and herding cats. Four. Is. The. Worst.
THE WORST.
But Five. Man, I love Five. Five is bright-eyed curiosity and funny questions and endless frustration surrounded by oodles of charm. The hours are long, but the year is short and Five is so delightful. It's not easy because there is no such thing as an easy age, but it's fun. So fun.
Case in point, I have dozens of videos of Mila being charmed by all things Christmas. Santa delivers toiletries at our house and Mila loved every single thing. The toothbrush? Worthy of a party. The bottle of shampoo? SO EXCITING! The box of Frozen Band-Aids? THE BESSSSST GIFT EVERRRRRRR! Santa genuinely shorted the kid (Because Mom and Dad delivered a Nintendo Switch, which is waaaaaay over budget so BALANCE. Santa gets to bring ... no toys), and yet Mila was over-the-moon and filled with excitement.
Everything about her pure joy was perfect.
And it's a good thing that I sat back and soaked it all in. The kid is about four minutes from untangling all things Santa, so it may not be the same next year.