Five.
It's a big number. It's definitely not a preschooler, but not quite a "kid". It's getting ready to read. It's practicing handwriting and always asking how to spell things. It's long limbs stretching too far past cuffs of shirts and pants. It's getting ready for kindergarten. It's finally pronouncing words right (goodbye "lello"). It's bossing your little sister around. It's old enough that I don't get a hug and kiss in the morning at school in front of friends, but young enough that I do get one in the parking lot. It's tough questions (which I will take any day over 3 am feedings). It's knowing that when left alone, there might be mayhem, but at least it won't involve eating something random. It's going to movies and watching the whole way through. It's a lot of fun.
My boy at 5 is a gentle soul. Sure, he has his moments of wildness (he can drop Daddy to the floor in about 10 seconds and when I suggested we sign him up for "Little Ninjas" to learn karate, DGF said "You want to improve his fighting skills? We would never make it.") and acting younger than he is, but overall, he is a shy, sweet little guy who loves his artwork and can keep himself occupied coloring or looking at books for hours. He's very articulate and it's interesting having conversations with him and seeing how he thinks. Lately he's been saying he wants to be a zoo vet and take care of the red pandas and bears. When pressed, he says this involves brushing teeth and giving shots.
Last night he was up late and when I went to tell him he needed to go to sleep he told me he was "too excited" because tomorrow was his birthday and he would be the "birthday boy"!
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