Superheros love rain!

Yesterday, Molly turned 4. My baby girl turned 4 years old.

Somehow, somewhere, someone started telling Molly that though she wasn't big enough for what she wanted to do, she could do it when she was older. Namely, once she turned 4. (I'm not naming names, but I'm pretty sure the guy who sleeps in my bed is on the top of the suspect list.) This reasoning was given for any number of things: climbing a tree, having a sleepover, doing the monkey bars. I have no idea why such a close age was chosen, especially because the girl has the memory of an elephant. Seriously, she remembers trips that we took two years ago, she remembers who lives in what neighborhoods we drive into, she remembers tiny parts of toys that were left here six months ago by friends. Of course she's going to remember she is allowed to do certain things when she turns 4.

Because the 4th birthday was such a big deal, it was a huge decision on what kind of birthday party to have. I've talked before about the guilt I feel from the anti-princess faction. I know Molly would love a princess birthday party. She would love a make-over party. She would love any kind of girly party we could come up with. But, I just felt so guilty. So, when we went to a Sesame Street show in January, and Elmo and his friends were Superheros, an idea dawned on me. Molly started running around the house pretending to be a superhero; wanting problems to fix and capes to wear. That's it! We could have a superhero/supergirl party. She could still dress up (with a cape), but I could feel less guilty about the princess factor. Of course, I did do everything in pink, so that might have undercut the whole point, but, well, I never claimed to be perfect.