My offline journal has not been updated once since I started this blog. Anything I want to record gets recorded here. So, that means that all six of you will have to put up with the occasional even-more-indulgent-than-usual entry about the kiddlings. Here goes.

I'd always anticipated the nearly-five age with glee. This was going to be the time when I read my daughter so many of my favorite books--she'd be old enough to mostly get them, and we could giggle, gasp, and cry together. I've not been as good about this as I planned to be, as we've been reading A Litttle Princess for almost two months now owing to slackardliness on my part, but it's still lots of fun.

We're almost at the end, just at the part where The Magic happens. Delight! She's loving the story, and I'm really enjoying this time together. I thought she was, too. But then, in the middle of a sentence, she starts reading aloud with me. At the same pace. She stops, and says "Mommy, can I read this part now?" Uh, sure. Why not. She resumes reading, and while she stumbles over words like obeisance, she otherwise rips through a page without blinking. Then she turns to me, and says, "Mommy, can I finish the book by myself?" Goddammit.

Also frustrating (and really, really indulgent on my part, you can stop reading now): she is working on a Birthday Poster All About Me for her school. They have the students do them every year. She started by drawing a picture of her family--all four of us as stick figures. I asked her why she drew us that way--this is a girl who has drawn people with pupils, eyelashes, nostrils, and all five fingers since she was 2 1/2--and she replied that that's the way all the other children in her school draw. Aiiigh!

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