When we were at the library today, I let everyone pick out two DVDs. Shep picked out Bob the Builder: The Live Show. He doesn’t really have the patience to sit and watch the show, but it’s obscenely cute how he tries to sing the theme song.

Even though it was Shep’s pick, it was Neko’s first choice of what to watch. Since lunchtime, I think we’ve seen it five times. (Please don’t judge my parenting, I did all the laundry AND cleaned the house…some days are like that.) From a production standpoint, I am totally amazed at the fine job they did translating the animation into a live show. Kudos to whomever is responsible.

The DVD re-ignited Neko’s interest in Bob and his friends. By bedtime, she had pulled out all our Bob toys, and headed off to her room for some pre-bedtime play. When we went in to tell her it was time to turn in, we instead received an invitation to Bob’s live show. She had set up the “stage” and then meticulously lined up Fisher Price and Playmobil people to be the audience. The little details, like putting kids in their parent’s laps, make my heart swell extra big.

We never really got past the introduction. Like any stage manager, she was running into some technical difficulties of getting everyone lined up and moving in the right direction. We captured the whole thing on tape, which is sure to be a short iMovie someday if I ever get time to edit. We finally had to con her into bed with promises of watching the whole show in the morning.

This is the stuff of parenting that’s so very good.

These pictures make me laugh, because they would give you the impression that at Neko’s first soccer game she totally paid attention and participated and honed her craft. Which couldn’t be further from the truth. We had to coax her onto the field. And she was far more interested in playing with the flagpole than playing in the game. The few times she actually got into the groove, I think she enjoyed herself, but then something else distracted her and off she went onto her own little tangent.

I’m not sure we’ll make it through the season (which is only four weeks, I might add). I don’t want to force her to do something she doesn’t want to do, but I’d also love her to find an outlet for all this energy that doesn’t involve taking nosedives off the highest point she can climb to in our house.

Today, I should also mention, thanks to Renita and Diane, we got to attend an adults-only wedding shower where we ate something other than macaroni and cheese and we didn’t even have to put a single person in a time out. Of course, I was so ecstatic to be in such an environment that I completely forgot to take photos.

Five years ago today, Tom and I were newly married, just mulling over the whole idea of having kids. We slept in on Saturday mornings and made leisurely trips to the bookstore. We attended happy hours and saw movies that actually started after 7:00pm.

Four years ago today, I was coming off a restless night. Things didn’t feel right, and I had slept on the couch in between late night walks. During an early morning visit to the OB, she pressed gently on your head, which had apparently been holding in my already broken water. When your head moved, the floodgates opened. A week and a half early, we knew we were going to meet you that day.

From the day of your birth, you have been the same…unpredictable, surprising, and on your very own schedule (which you never care to share with us). You are stubborn with a will of steel, and heaven forbid anyone get in your way. My mother, who has seen hundreds of children in her day, declares you one of the most “challenging” children she’s met, especially on days that I’m driven to tears. But we both know, if we can just keep you out of jail, you will do amazing things some day.

Hand in hand with your stubborn will is a fearless determination. It is as if it hasn’t even occurred to you that there’s a possibility you might not be able to do something. It’s just a matter of coming up with the right plan. We haven’t really given you free access to your loft, so we keep a gate at the base of the stairs. One day I walked into your room to discover you on the top step…but on the outside of the stairs. You had used the one inch of stair on the outside of the rail to make your way up. From eight feet up, you were beaming, so proud of what you had figured out how to do without breaking the rules.

We got you the Playmobil castle for your birthday. You are entrenched in the world of princesses, so this was our compromise. We refuse to go headlong into the world of Disney’s Twelve Dancing Barbie Princesses, but there’s enough pink on this castle to make any princess proud.

And although you like the castle, your favorite gift by far was the frog anatomy model that you fell in love with at the Discovery Channel store. It has been your best friend, and you don’t even seem fazed by the fact that his liver and kidneys keep falling out. The latter part of the evening was spent setting up a birthday party for Frog with hats and wooden carrots on pink beanbag pillows. You even used your new colored tape to wrap presents.

I miss sleeping in. I miss those leisurely trips to the bookstore. But I will get to do that again soon enough, I imagine. And I will probably wistfully wish you were there, dragging me through the aisles of books or snuggling into our bed. I must remind myself to savor this amazing and exhausting time in my life. I can’t believe four years have rushed by already. I am floored at what a creative, complicated, and confident person you have become.

Somewhere in between a frog and a princess, I wouldn’t and couldn’t imagine you any other way. Happy birthday.