We had a big birthday at our house. Our sweet five year old turned six. She can no longer count her years on one hand. She is fully out of the preschool stage, complete with lanky legs, high-water pants, and pierced ears. Although, if I'm honest with myself, she grew out of the preschool stage quite a bit ago. Sometime this last year, she stopped grabbing Blankey and snuggling her under her head before she went to sleep. Her teeth are starting to wiggle. Not one prone to independence, she is no longer nervous to travel upstairs by herself. She has discovered audiobooks and is on, what must be, her thirtieth Boxcar Children. She listens, curled up on her bed, with her drawing pad and colored pencils in her lap, illustrating her favorite scene from each book. Every once in awhile her dad and I see glimpses of the woman she is becoming, and it is heartbreaking and exciting all at the same time.
After her birthday, our big girl was concerned. She didn't feel six. Because we are reading the In Grandma's Attic series before bed, she often asks me what it was like for me as a child as the little girl does to her Grandma in that series. This was no exception. "When did you feel six when you were a little girl." Good question. One I did not have an answer to. But, of course, there is a book for that.
Maybe this will help.
So we added Now We are Six by A. A. Milne to our morning basket. All the kids are delighted by the always sweet, often silly poems and beg me to read just one more each morning. I don't know if it has helped my girl really feel six, but it certainly expresses the world through a six year old's perspective well. The imaginative play, the importance of a beetle found and saved (only to be tossed out by Nanny), the love a stuffed friend. These things are what it means to be six.