Five

I truly can't believe that Maisy is already five years old. What happened? I am often surprised by her: she's tall; she's articulate; she looks like a kid; she says things like "you're not giving a good example [of how to behave]"; she negotiated a preschool love triangle by agreeing that the other two, Kyle and Maggie, could get married, and that she would be their au pair, (thus keeping her options open to marry Evie or Finn M.); she is sensitive and empathetic; she loves fiercely; she is a big sister. She is Maisy.

When we moved into our house in 2013, Maisy started coming into our bed in the middle of the night. For one reason or another we never buckled down to change this behavior, and then when I was in the hospital in labor with Lizzie, Maisy went straight to bed in our room with Dave. Seven-plus months later and she's still there. When I'm getting kicked in the kidney or elbowed in the head, I feel exasperated that my five-year-old is not sleeping in her own room. But when I see her sleeping or feel her warm hand on mine, I am grateful for the closeness I get to experience with this amazing person. One day, she may not like me very much. Like, tomorrow. (I wish I were kidding. She is five, after all!) But today, she is close, she is five, she is full of love, light, joy, and possibility. I love you, Maisy.