I was Punkin's hero a little while ago. We had rain, and a bit of thunder, but nothing too dramatic. The lights in the house, though, were flickering all evening. Punkin went to bed, then came back down to ask "What if the night lights go out, Mom?" I sent her back to bed with the promise that I would be up in five minutes to find her Buzz Lightyear flashlight. Her response "If you can't find it, I'll have to use *Daddy's*!" (Daddy has a really heavy Mag Light flashlight that she likes.) I told her we'd see about that.

She went back to bed, and I went downstairs to find the mini-mag light that I received (along with a Swiss Army Knife as an anniversary gift from my company). I popped the batteries in, then went upstairs.

Finding the "Buzz" flashlight was no problem, but the batteries were running low, and the light wasn't very bright -- a fact that she pointed out to me right away.

I told her she couldn't have Daddy's, but she could use mine. When I turned it on, the whole room seemed to light up -- as did her eyes. Well, *of course* she wanted that one, and quickly promised me that she wouldn't use it unless the lights went out. (I was afraid the light would wake up Sweet Pea.)

She was happy and that made me smile. Sometimes I can find just the right thing for the right moment. Those are good times.

Last Year
Our first born is five years old. A whole hand. She frustrates me, challenges me, defies me, bosses me, tells on me and amuses me. That about sums up this past two weeks. Hell, that's every week since she was born.

She flounces and prances and shows off. She pouts and cries and giggles and smiles. She can make Sweet Pea smile all the way down to her toes, and has been a terrific helper to us in the past few months.

She has a good heart. I hope she keeps it that way during these growing up years.

I'm so damn proud of her I can hardly stand it. I love that kid to pieces.

Can I just say "Ditto" to all of that? Oh, except the "five years old" part -- Our little Punkin is now six years old. SIX. Sheesh.

We look at pictures of her taken over the last two years, and I don't see much physical change, except the comings and goings of a couple of teeth, and a few inches added to her height.

As we look back at earlier pictures, though... well then. That's the little Punkin we hardly recognize. "Her face is longer now" or "she's so much taller now" flash through my mind as I look back. If we go far enough back, we see the "Michelin Man" pictures of her first year. She didn't have wrists for a long time, just little lines where her hands joined her arms. She could also hide whole meals in the folds under her chin(s). She had more rolls than a bakery.

Now she's around four feet tall, and gaining on me quickly. At this rate, her legs alone will be my height with the rest of her stacked on top of that when she's finished growing.

This year she graduated from preschool, participated in her first mini dance recital, and started kindergarten without so much as a backward glance. She's lost her first two teeth, paints her nails, and is learning to read and write pretty quickly.

She is still such a helper with Sweet Pea, and can make her little sister giggle so hard her face turns red. She's quickly needing her "own space" for some of her things so that Sweet Pea doesn't get to them.

Punkin is excited about Peanut's impending arrival, but in a reserved "been there, done that" kind of way. We've bought bunk beds for her and Sweet Pea, but it was still a surprise to Punkin when I told her that Peanut would be sleeping in their room, too.

She asks when we'll go to Disneyworld, wants just about every toy marketed on TV, and goes nearly catatonic when she sees a new Barbie movie coming out. (This year, it's Barbie of Swan Lake. "Ohhhhhh, I want THAT Mom!")

Our oldest girl still likes Spongebob Squarepants, Barbies, the Disney princesses, and still plays with her tea set. She would rather wear a dress everyday (with the appropriate dress up shoes, of course), then jeans. She's just itching to be able to play with "toy" makeup... something I'm going to try to put off as long as possible. (I'm a mean Mom, you know.)

It's been a big year for her, and she's been handling it rather well. She's a great kid. I'm still rather proud of her and the person our blue-eyed Punkin is becoming.

Happy birthday again, Punkin. Don't go growing up too quickly now. We don't want to let go any sooner than we have to.

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3 years old
4 years old
5 years old