One Hand

I can still count you on one hand.

i forget you are so small sometimes..and ask so much of you.
You  fall in line with what the older do...
" Put your shoes on, plate on counter, brush your teeth, take a bath, toys away...
walk the line , don't complain...
Wipe the tears and stay happy , head to school all day long. And behave when you're home, homework done, ..get in bed , no more playing"

i forget i can count you on one hand...

You are doing so well..and it's ok to fuss. This world and mama are asking so much. I want to scoop you up and kiss all the tears that fall when 5 years aren't enough to explain..why your friend chose your brother to play with today.....


And although you talk big, your voice is still small...with a timber that's scratchy and low...
Your words are well chosen, but 5 years aren't enough to master the meanings each hold..
You say Thinger for Finger and
You love to play football, the big kids do too...and you fight back tears when they take it from you.
You roll your eyes like I'm annoying you when i say 3 times fast " i love you, i luv you, i luv you"

You are tough, and you shake off pain when you fall...yet still run to mama if you can't shake off it all..
You are thoughtful, and empathetic, deep waters, and kind...so much emotion to hold all the time...
Mama knows all about the 5 year old, and then you do things i never thought you'd do...

You surprise me and you're growing so fast...
but theres still comfort in the little small fact that ...

I can still count you on one hand....