So much seems to change at 5. They are open to the world and the world is open to them. One blogger compared it to a roller coaster. But when I imagine five in my head, it's a revolving door. They don't have much of a filter- whatever's in their heads comes straight out their mouths. Mostly they are confident and self-assured. The world hasn't beaten them down yet. At 25, I wish I'd been astute and introspective enough realize the value of the unbridled confidence and peace I'd had when I was five, that slowly got lost along the way. Lost and then regained again at 38 when you start to say, "I want to be a respectful person and endeavor to make the world a better place, but I am who I am and I'm not going to apologize for it anymore."
So the revolving door means the door is open to the whole world- and they are giving us their very own interpretations back out at an amazing rate. The door is spinning. At the same time, five is absorbing the world like crazy, eager to be independent and learn anything. Sure, they are stubborn little folks, and their search for independence and self is at odds with this almost innate drive to take the world in. "I will learn, but I make the rules, and I will have opinions about what I learn and do it myself because I am no longer part of you."
That is where Elio and I sometimes have problems.
Because as a mom, you feel so elated when they start sounding out letters, tying their shoes, getting their own food (sometimes without asking), but I have to say, even though I was one of those who considered infants a bit clingy and parasitic, it does make my heart sink a little lower to know he doesn't need his mommy as much anymore.
But even though he insisted on three birthday cakes, says he'll never cut his hair, is adamant that B and b are different letters, he still says he wants to live with me forever and wants only me to put a Band Aid on when he falls down. That is the beautiful contradiction of five.
