Sweet Evelyn Marie,
It is early December, but I know myself better than to think I will remember to write this before the new year dawns, so here we are. You're nearly 6 years old now. The last 10-odd months since the coronavirus COVID-19 became pandemic have been a real whirlwind for you, for me, for all of us. I went into a lot of detail on the last update so I won't go into too much more here. Suffice it to say that Donald Trump lost re-election and Covid hasn't gotten any better. There is so so much more I could say, but I am just not up to it tonight. I'd much rather write to you about you.
The other day you lost your third tooth. It was one of your top lateral incisors and you look just absolutely adorable with a little gap in your mouth from where the tooth fell. Your grin charms every room you enter and you are excited for the ability to use a straw without opening your mouth. :)
You've grown an awful lot in the last year and I'm truly looking forward to learning your new "stats" when we go for your 6 year old appointment. At the very least, your hair has grown back out to your shoulders (most of it anyway).
Your sense of humor is coming along nicely. I get to hear silly jokes about ghost goats scaring themselves in mirrors and cracks about chickens crossing the road. You've even made a few puns. So has your sister, on that note. I'm very proud of both of you and your ability to take things with humor.
You've been writing a lot more lately. You almost never want to read anything yourself, but if you have something you want the world to know, you'll find a way to get it in writing. You sound things out wonderfully and while we have a lot of work to do on spelling, all in due time.
You've been letting me know your innermost thoughts, feelings and desires and I truly feel honored to have secured that trust with you. I love that you tell me how sometimes you feel like you're dreaming. You get things stuck in your brain at night and just have to come out and tell us before you can sleep. A good hug and kiss, a listening ear and some reassurance later and you're back in bed.
You're still the best big sister I've ever known anyone to be. You care for Mabel in a gentle but firm, sometimes taunting way, but always with love. You guide her on how to do things correctly and you let me know when she's falling a little on the wayside.
I hope that in your eyes I'm doing a good job. I have hard days where I yell and am not always the easiest to get along with, where I feel like I'm getting a glimpse into your teenage years even, but we always find a way to make up and I hope we always will.
You're still an explorer of your world. You seek out abandoned stuff just like me and your dad did before you were born. You want to carry vines, sticks, rocks, dig in the dirt and feel leaves on every hike. And we go on a lot of hikes.
We started homeschooling since I last wrote and while we have done so much tinkering to the curriculum and the style of teaching, I think we are doing pretty good. You learn on Mondays and Tuesdays each week and get to play the rest of the days. It gives you a good break between the focused learning and the playing to learn. You're not much for homeschooling in general, though, and you've asked several times about when you'll get to return to "real school". I look forward to that day, too, kiddo, because you really do shine when you're in your zone.
The cold weather has returned to us and you're disappointed you can't wear dresses 24/7. I try to accommodate your desires when I can, but you don't like wearing pants under dresses, either, so my hands are kind of tied. I have weaned you off of your black and white striped dress, for the most part. We picked out some other nice-feeling dresses and clothes that you can feel comfortable in, including some fuzzy pink pants that make you look like you're a college kid home for Christmas break. Yeesh!
You're still getting more TV than I'm really happy about, but at least its mostly limited to the morning when I'm too lazy to get up yet, the afternoons when I'm making dinner and at other peoples' houses (like our homeschool friends or your aunt Aurora's) and I don't really mind that. You like Bob's Burgers, Trash Truck, Boss Baby and a handful of other obnoxious shows I can't think of at the moment. I'm sure some of them are mildly educational. Most probably aren't though. Oh well. It's a pandemic, after all.
You're getting more and more into my own music taste, probably since that's all you hear. Regina Spektor, JJ Heller, Frankie Cosmos, and Lenka are just a few of the artists you request to listen to in the car, before bed or just bumming around at home.
You're still very much into fairies, although I think you've come to terms with not being one yourself. You squirrel away the recyclables that you go through throughout the day and bring them to a part of the yard that you call your "fairy land" and as far as I can tell, it's a magical place for fairies to gather. I love your sense of magic about the world and that you're willing to share it with Mabel when she shows interest too.
Despite the precautions of social distancing in place, you're still quite social and introduce yourself to just about anyone we interact with from the startbucks barista to the homeless man on the corner begging for change to the dad of the little boy you met at the playground. You have never met a stranger and while this socially-anxious mama freezes up a lot when you introduce yourself and Mabel and tell everyone your ages and where you live, I suppose I wouldn't have made some of the friends I have without you. So thank you, my dear, for being your outgoing self.
Speaking of people experiencing homelessness: you have often asked what their signs say and depending on the answer, you either tell me we should help them with change or cash or tell me how much you wish you could help everyone. You have a really good heart. I try to let you have the cup holder change whenever I can and with your mask on, you're allowed to hand it out the window to the people on the corners. I struggled a lot with whether to give you the insight I have of some of those people being grifters, but I recall your Granny helping strangers and why discourage it?
Your grandma and grandpa on Dad's side live with us now. I can't remember if I mentioned that they were moving in before. They've been here since September and you are loving it. We try to make sure we aren't all up on each other in this house, which can be difficult, but Grandpa Max has said that hearing yours and Mabel's squeals while he works in the home office warms his heart. He's been waiting for this for a very long time.
He's taught you quite a bit about Jesus, God and all of that stuff. Not being religious myself I had some issues with this, but ultimately concluded that the decision of whether you should believe in that or not lies solely with you and as long as we all own our beliefs, I don't mind if he tells you the stories from the bible. And you do like to hear them. It encourages a lot of conversations between us too. I am often in awe at how your mind thinks and what what you hear turns into when you repeat it back. It's very fascinating.
You're completely asleep at the top of your bed with your sister sprawled out beside you with no pillow at the moment. In just a few short hours you'll be at my side asking me to make breakfast for you or which carton is the whole milk, so I better wrap this up.
I love you more than life itself. I love you from the top of your head to the bottoms of your feet and to the moon and back. You've made me so happy to be your mom and even when I feel stressed and frazzled to my breaking point, you find a way to bring me back down to earth and I don't know what I would do without you. Thank you for being the kid that made me a mom and if I forget to write again around your birthday, Happy early Birthday, Kiddo. I hope six brings you so many adventures.
