Nora is five years old today, I can hardly believe it. The day has started out strangely. There have been birthday wishes, yes, but there has also been a vehement discussion/argument, which actually threatened to turn teary, regarding negative numbers. Nora seems baffled and angry about the idea of negative numbers. I think she feels sorry for zero, which in her mind wore the mantle of the very smallest number and now has been usurped by these bastards with the dashes in front of their bodies. I tried to explain how zero is not small, exactly, more that it is nothing, and that being nothing is still pretty darn special, but it did not work so eventually I was like HEY NEW TOPIC! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Five years old. The other day I was poking around in our neglected video camera and found some footage of a two-year-old Nora performing her ABCs like a well-trained monkey. Ah, those were the days, when they would be cute on command.
But strictly speaking, I like these days better. When they are full of ideas, and sit at their art tables for hours executing those ideas with paper and markers and glitter glue. I particularly like it when they reappear with udders. Fresh milk whenever we want it!
—mimi smartypants won't buy the cow since she gets the milk for free.