Holly's Birthday, Kind Of

Holly is a joy. She is such a happy girl. And now she is five. I am not ready for this one to be five. Five means school and school means growing up whether you want to or not. Here is something I wrote a couple weeks ago, inspired by Holly:

I’m doing dishes. I’m alone in the room. Kate and Aaron have cleared their plates and gone outside so Aaron can perform his nightly “crack up” on the swings. Soon I’ll hear hysterical laughing while my boy hangs upside down while swinging back and forth. Warm summer evenings warrant silly rituals and Kate and Aaron’s latest is quite entertaining. Holly and Emmy have disappeared downstairs. Greg has gone to Young Men’s.

I’ve got music on and I’m in no big hurry to do the dishes. I look up and Emmy is at the couch, dancing. She’s shaking, grooving back and forth to Matchbox 20. That little cutie can wiggle. Holly comes up in costume and ushers Emmy downstairs to get her sissy in costume as well.

I make a little progress on the kitchen. The table is cleared and the floor is swept. The dishes are still in piles at the sink. “Ta da!” I turn around and the two musketeers are awaiting my praise. Holly pulls the strap of her dress back onto her shoulder. Her coral pink dress up has rhinestones all down the shirred bodice. Her excitement barely contained, she reaches her arms out to Emmy, “Look at Emmy!”

“Wook at me, Mom!” Emmy’s wearing a cheerleader dress up, fully sequined from neck to hem. Her eyes sparkle brighter than the dress. I change the music to Jack Johnson, my dancers need good twirling music.

Emmy has a long wand she’s dancing with. Holly wants the wand. And she does something that shows me immediately how big and little she is all at the same time. Holly asks Emmy for the wand. She doesn’t snatch it away. She waits patiently for 30 seconds while Emmy bats it around in purposeful motions. Emmy hands it to her older sis and says, “Youw turn, Howwee.” And Holly takes the wand, performs the same purposeful motions, then dances with it. She copies Emmy’s dance as if to say, “Thank you for sharing something special with me.” Emmy skips around Holly, thrilled that her idol imitated her. Emmy watched Holly dance around like the little girl she is. The sweetest pair.

They dance frequently. But this time struck me so bittersweet. Holly starts school in four weeks. Is that all I have left? I thought by the third child I’d be ready and excited for them to start school. I am in many ways, but in more ways I’m sad. Experience has taught me that she’ll never be quite the same after kindergarten. The changes are good mostly. But they are changes nonetheless. I’ll miss her while she’s at school. I’ll miss them all. Every year brings new experiences, more to learn, more to grow, and more to change. The changing is usually ever so slight. You don’t recognize it until it’s a done deal.

So here I am, at the bar full of half done dishes, wishing I could freeze time. I don’t want this stage to end. But it will and then I’ll try desperately to hang on to the next phase. For now, I’ll just take this sweet memory of Holly and Emmy dancing, Kate and Aaron playing hard on the swings, and I’ll lock the memory to this paper and thereby, in my heart.