Annabelle was born on a Friday and I didn’t change one single diaper until Monday afternoon. I didn’t ask anyone else to do it, but I couldn’t sit up or walk to the bathroom without help so Christopher or the nurses did it all. It was the least they could do after I had a person unceremoniously pulled from my body.

Five years later to the day, I was scooping poop out of the kitchen sink because one of the cats (not to name names but Lucy) didn’t use the litterbox for its God-intended purpose. 

All that to say, I didn’t expect the day my very much potty trained favorite child turned five would be a day I dealt with unpleasantness of that kind.  

I say this every year, but I can’t believe she’s growing so fast. As my friend said, the sands in the hourglass are falling at warp speed. 

1:40pm, the exact minute she turned 5.

She loves school, food, coloring, crafts, snacks, popsicles, stuffed animals (of which she has dozens and dozens), swimming and movie nights with popcorn.

She’s so funny. I want to bottle up her giggle.

She’s always been ready for a good time.

She tried talking to the kids on the playground about the Pilgrims and didn’t understand how they didn’t know who the Pilgrims were.

She loves going to the doctor. “Um, Mom? I have this scratch over here from when I bumped into the wall but like, not really bumped into it. Just a little bumped into it. Do you think we can go see Dr. Tweet?” (His last name isn’t really Tweet but it’s very similar and I never correct her because it cracks me up.) 


She’s not perfect and struggles when others don’t want to play what she does, but she is very compassionate towards other children and has a good heart. She has a little friend who can’t walk well due to health issues and AB has never once gotten frustrated with her or not wanted to play with her because she can’t keep up as well.

She loves the cats and more often than not they sleep together at night.
She’s become an excellent swimmer. She does hour-long lessons every Tuesday and has come so far. She struggles with freestyle but can do fairly well with the breaststroke. As long as she has goggles on she’s a happy camper. If the goggles fog up or fall off she acts as if the sky is falling and she won’t swim.

She can be so absent-minded. I’ll tell her to put her dishes in the sink and she’ll start talking about what she did at her imaginary school and she’ll walk right past the sink and into the living room.

She got nervous about going to a new Sunday school so she asked Christopher to write our phone numbers down for her. She folded the paper up and put it in her shoe for safe keeping. Every week since she’s asked for our numbers and little family portrait to “keep me from being lonely.”


She still has the most curly hair and the bluest eyes.
She’s my best girl.