Even the gibbons know she’s a monkey. She’s my little Chickeymonkey, and she’s five today. Happy Birthday to my little big girl!
Me: “So, you’re gonna be five, huh?”
Me: “Does that mean you’re going to turn into a gorilla, or an ape? Now that you’re getting bigger?”
Chick: (Making a sad face) No. I don’t wanna be a gorilla or a ape. I wanna stay a Chickeymonkey.
Me: “Yeah, you like being my little Chickeymonkey, don’t you?”
Chick: “Yeeaaahhhh” (grins)
Me: “You can have french toast sticks,”
Me: “Or you can have some cereal,”
Me: “And you can have some milk.”
Me: “You can have some grapes in your lunch, if you want,”
Me: “But you can only be four for ONE MORE DAY.”
Me: “Then you have to be five.”
Chick: “Awww Maaaaan!”
Me: “So, how old ya gonna be again?”
Chick: “Five.” (holds up this many)
Me: “Wow. That’s a LOT of fingers.”
Me: “So then what are you gonna do?”
Chick: “Then I’m gonna be SIX. And then I’m gonna be SEVEN, eight nine TEN and then I’ll be the same as Catybug!”
Me: “Yes, well, by then, Catybug will be 15. I don’t think you’ll ever catch up.”
Chick: “Awww Maaaannnn” (rolls eyes)
A day in the life. What I wouldn’t give to have my biggest complaint be that mom is yanking my hair out when she is trying to brush the knots out. To be five again. To have such a wonderful, helpful big sister to play Littlest Pet Shop with, who only tortures you on occasion. To be a snugglebug, cuddly little kissyface brown eyed munchkin whose smile lights up the room, whose giggle is contagious, whose dry snarky sense of humor is too much like her mother’s. Who eats every ten minutes and chooses peanut butter on a spoon more often than not because “that’s protein, mom!”
And to think, five years ago today I was in tears, not knowing whether or not she was going to make it. Wondering how I could possibly help her fight for her little life, lungs under-developed, broken collarbone, tubes winding in and out of her little body in her little incubator oxygen tank. Crying that I couldn’t nurse her, couldn’t hold her. All I could do was feel her little fingers wrap around me for short periods of time a few times a day. Bringing her home finally, after a week in the NICU, and I swear I never put her down.
Now I can’t even pick her up.
Happy Birthday, Chickeymonkey!