Happy birthday my cool, confident, crazy girl!!! This is pretty weird for me. Today you woke up five and we’re headed into the local public elementary school because kindergarten registration starts today because of course it does. I’m a mom???? of multiple children???? one of whom is five?????

Reese, you were the easiest baby. It was insane how easy you were. Your pregnancy was pretty smooth sailing, your delivery fast and painless, and you didn’t even cry. You just stuck your little feets out and nursed like a champ, right away. You slept through the night by two weeks old. You loved your car seat. You could co-sleep, crib sleep, on-the-go sleep. Breastmilk? Great. Formula? Yum. Binkies? Sure. Held by anyone, anywhere? Of course, why not, nbd.

We were just buds, you and me. I never really saw you as a tiny lil fragile thing, or that I was this great protector, or even that we had any kind of power/maturity structure between us. Idk. You were just my Reese. You’ve always just kind of been my equal, my buddy, my sidekick, my girl. You just fit seamlessly into my life, expanding it in the very best possible way and making everything a billion times better.

Nothing against Malone or her birth, but the day you were born was the best day of my life and I doubt anything will ever again change me in such a profound way. Because you were first. And you were magic. I’m so glad you were first, because I watch you comfort your Lone when she falls down or I refuse yet another raccoon request and I just know she needs you and you need her. You are truly a fantastic big sister and I’m so excited to see that continue to develop in you.

Reese, everyone since you were probably 10 months old has used the same word to describe you. I mean, a lot of words. But there’s been one common denominator – You are COOL. “Reese is just ~cool.” “I’ll never be as cool as Reese.” “How did Reese get so cool?” and the answer is that you just kinda came that way.

You’ve just had this big, solidified, tangible personality from the very beginning. I like “cool” because it means you’re fun and funny and know all the Mamma Mia songs and talk like a teenager, but most of all I like “cool” because I think what a lot of them are seeing is actually confidence.

Reese, you have more confidence in your little finger than most adults have in their entire bodies. The world will chip away at it, but I will protect it with everything I have. I will fight tooth and nail for the girl who jumps out of the preschool pickup line singing and dancing. I will box out negativity for the kid who makes friends in line and invites strangers to her birthday party even when it’s six months away (but I won’t let them actually come, obviously). I will be on your team and fuel that confidence. I need to do better at that for you.

Because things are changing. You’re changing. Suddenly there’s a lot more foot-stamping and the sassy in you walks a thin line between precocious and bratty. I expect you to be older than you are, and punish you when you aren’t. I want things for you that are really just selfish for me.

“Stop crying.” “Be quiet.” “Go play somewhere else.” “Calm down.” “No.”

I’m sorry you hear those from me so much. I’m sorry because deep down I know it would be indescribably hard to be five again. I’m sorry because I know that the biggest threat to your cool Reese confidence is me.

So I’ll give you some birthday presents that we’ve excitedly purchased for you. We’ll have a fun party that I’ve planned for months. I’ll surround you with your friends and family and way too much sugar.

But I think most importantly I’ve decided to give you the gift of a better mom this year. A mom who gives you more time and attention. A mom who is more gentle and understanding. A mom who lets you be the age and maturity level you are RIGHT NOW, not trying to speed you along to a more convenient independence level. A mom who gives you more choices and fewer roadblocks.

Above all, a mom who truly acts as your biggest fan and advocate. Because I am, Reese. I know it doesn’t look like that most of the time. But I am in awe of you.

Happy Fifth Birthday, you crispy chicken nugget.