My Five-Year-Old Bear

My little baby bear is sprouting into this person. It's uncontrollable. I don't always feel that I'm helping raise Claire as much as standing back and watching the fireworks go off. I'm just proud to be a part of her life. She's funny. Really funny. And oddly smart. And kind. And cool. And, of course, beautiful (though I trying to ration my compliments on her looks to only a few a day).

She turned five Tuesday. We had her birthday party a day early, on Memorial Day. Here are some photos.


This might be her favorite person in the world, her cousin Sepporah the blonde hellion . They will get in more trouble together than I even want to think about. Right now we're all still in denial about all the trouble. But until these two turn into bold, subversive and beautiful young women, they're still safely adorable, like puppies.


Killin' a Cheetoh. With poise.


She loved her cake, as we knew she would when Kirst ordered the one with purple and pink flowers on it. This is her smiling as I prepared to light the candles.


This is her frowning with concern as I failed to pull of keeping all five candles lit in the middle of the windy afternoon.


An impromptu Future Troublemakers of the World meeting with my mom, former president of the club.


Tuesday was the actual birthday so Monday night, after the party, curlers were installed before bedtime so she could have a special birthday 'do.


The curler experiment was a success. And check out the kicks.


She agreed to pose with her slovenly father for a few pictures. She's like a little Princess Di, the way she hangs out with us unwashed commoners.


This is her grabbing the camera when nobody was looking and taking the classic MySpace self-portrait. The lesson: The MySpace self-portrait looks wrong on everybody. Even angels.