Staying five

Tonight, as we were putting the girls to bed, I cradled Abbi onto my lap and told her that tonight was her last night  as a five year old. That tomorrow she would wake up and be six. She instantly got a pouty look on her face and started holding back her tears.

She told me she did want to not be five any more. She liked being five. She did not want to be six.

I gave her another kiss on her forehead, squeezed her a little tighter and told her it was ok. She could be five.

Truth be told, I wanted to cry, too.

I want her to be five. Not that I have any strong attachments to the age. I just want to freeze time. Not being five means she’s another year older. Another year behind us.

Tomorrow morning, I will let her decide if she wants to still be five or if six is ok. I won’t rush her into being six. I know she’ll love it, eventually. But I’m ok with having another day to hold my five year old.