Being five is my best new year yet. I no longer have to decide what to do all day long all by myself. I get to paint, sing, dance, do numbers and letters just because that is what teacher says. I love to do it all. There are so many new things to learn and to try and so many changes. I love going to school.

I love listening to teacher call roll and watching her take each card and move it to the back of the deck in turn. Through the year, the cards get less like cardboard and more like cloth. I love those 5 minutes each day.

I pretend to be asleep when the dismissal bell ends naptime so I stay at school all night. No, that won’t happen, but I get to be the last one to leave.

I come home each day to Mom and Craig and sometimes to a new dress. Flowers grow in our garden, and I love the bright yellow ones the best. Don’t know where Dad is, but somehow I know he will be home soon, but I try not to think about that.

Going to Grandma’s is the best. My aunts are there. My uncle plays with me, but less and less. Nobody, really, plays with me very much any more.

Mom’s busy and needs to make money. I try to stay out of her way and not to make any trouble for her. I don’t want her to worry about me. Sometimes I have to take my brother with me when I go to a birthday party. I feel the “angry” that lives in my tummy.

Dad’s home. Yelling starts. Mom’s mad. I hide behind the bookcase and pretend that I can read.