Turning 5.

We left birthing class because we got bored.

We fell asleep after her birth. 

She was born 11 months after her brother.

For a solid 6 months, we thought her birthday was a different date. 

I sent out her birth announcements with the wrong year on them. 

I cried to her pediatrician that she cried too much.

Despite our less-than-stellar parenting, we somehow got the sweetest girl ever. 

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When your littlest isn't little anymore, it's weird. On one hand, you're all sad because they can do all these big kid things without you. 

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But then it's awesome because we can do things like spend a whole afternoon driving to all of the gas stations being the Blue Sucker Bandits and buying up all of the blue suckers.

Except for the gas station at 103rd and Mastin. That crabby guy doesn't support our venture. 

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So, I've decided that turning 5 just means that you're a big-little. 

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She's too little to reach all the things, but too big to ask all the time. Want the fruit snacks that are hiding on the top shelf? You're going to have to let me hold you like a baby until my hip falls off. 

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So happy 5th birthday, Sela Kate, Selly-Belly, SelleBelle, Little Momma. You have my heart.