FIVE

Five years ago (and a day now) I was huffing and puffing to squeeze this baby out. Well, that's how I remember it. More likely I was moaning and groaning and thinking "I cannot possibly push harder than I just pushed! Just reach in and pull it out! And please let it be just a huge burrito because I'm starving and you people won't let me eat."

After I survived childbirth, they actually let me bring tiny Ira home. I really had no idea what to do with a baby. I thought I did, but I didn't. Ira lived anyway and he's five now! He has wanted to be five for SO long. A few times earlier this year, he thought he could will it to be his birthday. There was a lot of crying and pleading, some magical thinking. I think I was just as happy as he was yesterday morning when I woke him up and said "good morning five-year old!"

One thing I love about this kid (among countless other things) is that he is funny. It might be mom and dad's influence by feeding him jokes or exposing him to different kinds of humor (all child appropriate of course) and explaining why it's funny, but a big part of it is he really just loves to laugh and to make people laugh. This exchange between him and Leon the other day had me in stitches.

Leon (packing up Ira's lunch in the morning): Ira, do you want lemonade in your lunch or [scans the fridge, doesn't see another choice] lemonade?

Ira (without missing a beat): Lemonade. No, wait. [long pause] I mean lemonade.

LOLZ.