Five

Somehow over the last 5 years, my baby grew up. From high-maintenance spirited newborn to high-maintenance strong-willed toddler to high-maintenance exuberant kindergartner, my sweet firstborn is now fully Little Girl. And she'd argue fiercely about the little part. She is as smart, fiesty, passionate, fun-loving, clever, dramatic, hilarious, determined, and big-hearted as ever. But with a gradually accumulating measure of maturity. Emphasis on gradually. And intermittently. Her understanding of complex and abstract concepts continues to amaze me. She asks questions and makes observations that would intrigue Nobel Prize winners and astrophysicists. She is wise far beyond her years, although this is sometimes mitigated by the fact that she knows it. And makes sure her parents know it, too. They say it's easier to make a horse "Whoa" than "Giddyup", so we're working on reigning in our firecracker of a pony just enough to keep her out of trouble. 

The big Five was a prolonged, eventful celebration suitable for Elle's over-the-top personality. We were on vacation in Kiawah for her actual birthday, and she had a grand Pink Lemonade party shared with her best friend Grace upon our return. There was no paucity of birthday desserts. Including a watermelon cake not pictured.

Or presents.

When I asked her what kind of party she wanted this year, Elle chose a pink lemonade party. I suppose after the Rainbow Party request last year, I should have been thankful I didn't have to bake a 6 layer multicolored cake. Far simpler, this year's choice required only a lemonade stand, lemonade, a host of pink and yellow confections, and some color-coded decor.

We served pink and yellow fruit kabobs, ham and cheese skewers, pink and yellow veggie straws (leaving my pantry with a bag of just green ones), cake, cupcakes, and raspberry sorbet in scooped-out lemon bowls. 

It was a hit. Elle and Grace loved serving lemonade to their guests, and even rewarded themselves for the hard work with a cup or two twenty of their own. 

Little sisters got in on the fun. 

Turns out, Elise can entertain herself indefinitely with a game of Twister.

The festivities were supposed to include swimming, but apparently we moved to the North Pole in mid-August for a freezing cold and rainy party day. Nonetheless, the birthday girls went for a dip. A shivering, blue-lipped dip. With a nose-bandaid to boot. The latter thanks to a nasty fall while running down the sidewalk. I've since encouraged her to catch herself with her hands, not facial bones.

Ready or not, my first baby is Five. Ready to start Kindergarten. Ready to take over the world.

Happy, happy birthday my sweet E.