If a child, Iraq would be packing its first schoolbag, taking its first school bus rides, knowing its first tastes of independence. It would come home from kindergarten as a master of modern construction-paper art.

Five is a magic age where children can emerge from their formative years, causing parents to reflect:

Is this my child, my creation, really stomping away in boots and backpack to school, without me? Where did my baby go? Who is this little person? And who will they become someday?

Iraq lends itself to similar questions, as five years into the conflict neither the public nor government can address these concerns with certainty. They are both befuddled parents of a five-year-old, confused and excited and apprehensive about the future.

What is this thing that’s been created? An evil dictator was toppled, but an ancient society was cleaved along strict sectarian lines. As oil-rich nations elsewhere swell with profits from record prices, the Iraqi economy flails despite an embarrassing abundance of resources.

Thousands of lives – more than 4,000 American and 100,000 Iraqi – have ended prematurely from this endeavor. Economists estimate the cost of war runs into the trillions.

All in five short years. As a parent might say, where did the time go?

Iraq has matured from war to occupation. The surge has settled the country, following an explosion of bloodshed, but has yet to yield the political progress so desperately needed for the country’s stability. Political saber-rattling about withdrawal continues unabated around the country thanks to the campaign trail.

Yet America, for the most part, seems resigned. Protests are sporadic, rather than spontaneous. We don’t speak minds, we speak politics. This mirrors the country’s sentiments: we want the troops home, but have potent and justified fears about the havoc this could wreak.

Usually, understanding past missteps can illuminate a future path. Iraq is an exception. Strategy and intelligence errors are exposed almost daily, but nothing in these chronicles of shortsightedness provides wisdom for tomorrow.

And there’s a hook. In November, the “parents” will disappear, replaced by a foster guardian less enamored with the child’s progress, and promising changes. This could either unscramble the diplomatic jumble keeping Iraq from improving, or retard Iraq’s development if incorrect steps are taken.

We have no glimpse of the future Iraq to guide us, however. Like a child, we have high hopes and dreams of Iraq’s potential for achievement, peace and success. And like any parent, we’ll stride across fiery coals before we temper our lofty expectations for the lesser demands of reality.

America is the parent of a enigmatic five-year-old, Iraq, our creation, bounding away into the future. All we can hope is what we’re doing will work. After that, what may happen is beyond our immediate control.