ISHU IS FIVE!

A whole hand.

FIVE WHOLE YEARS.

And I am a mother to a 5-year old.

What?

I don’t even know where to begin. Do we talk about his ninja party? The bike that Dadi and Babaji sent because he’s a real grown bike rider now? Do I talk about the excitement he felt when he passed out goody bags to his classmates? Or the way his eyes lit up when Papa made him fairy bread this morning on his special day? Or how about how excited he felt that Nani got to fall asleep next to a 4-year old and wake up next to a 5-year old?

Do I share that he sat there building a Lego monster truck and declared, “This is my best birthday EVER!!!” when, really, we were all just sitting around doing what we do every single day with him?

Do I talk about how much this kid has taught me over the past five years?

Write him a letter detailing all the ways he has taught me PATIENCE and EMPATHY and how to hold space for someone who just really wanted to push the dang elevator button?

I just.

I don’t know.

There’s so much.

I can’t write it all down.

There will never be enough time.

So I spend the time where it matters.

And come here when I can.

To dump the photos, share the one-liners, and exclaim that I’ve got a 5-year old. That’s keeping us pretty busy these days.

He’s sleeping now.

But he asked for a FICTIONAL bedtime story this evening. I started the story off by saying, “There once was a girl who lived in an apartment building. And she love love love love LOVED books.”

He cut me off and said, “THAT’S NOT MADE UP. THAT’S REAL. THAT’S YOU.”

Ha.

My little monkey.

Gosh I love him so so much.

Okay, now, my babies are asleep and I am the “fictional” book-loving character that lives in an apartment building. So I must go read my book.

I’ll be back tomorrow.

With a “5+” year old.

Wowie.

(And in case you want some Ishu highlights, here are my posts where Ishu turns four, Ishu turns three, Ishu turns two, and Ishu turns one).