Dear M,
This week you turned 4-years-old, and while you are doing so many wonderful big-boy things, like peeing on the potty all by yourself and going to preschool two days a week, your growth and development are bittersweet to me. Although you will always be my youngest child, you are most certainly not my baby anymore.
At four years, you are a very chatty little dude. While it takes a bit for you to warm up, once you feel comfortable around someone you don't stop talking. Ever. Your mind is so full of things you wish to share that your mouth has a hard time keeping up. If you aren't tripping over your own words, you are saying, "Hey. Hey. HEY!!!" to keep people's attention so they will listen.to.you.
Although you still defer to G in most everything, you have been known to tackle him if he takes things too far. When he tackles you back, you keep at him until both of you come crying to me. As much as I dislike seeing you two fight, I can't help but get tickled at seeing you give him what for. For the most part, though, you and G are partners in crime and very, very good buddies. Every morning at the bus stop, you give each other sweet, cuddly hugs, and when my ears are not available for twiddling, you often seek out G's ears for comfort.
You are also very sweet on N, or "Wa" as you call her. She tells you quite often that if you give her a kiss she will give you candy. You have given her zillions of kisses but haven't quite picked up on the fact that you have yet to receive any sort of treat.
One of your favorite activities is being pushed on the swing, and you also enjoy running along the chalk obstacle courses I make on the front sidewalk.
You sing all the time. One of my favorites is "Da wules. Da wules. Da wules of da classwoom." Each week you come home from school with a new repertoire of music in your vast mental collection. For a preschooler, you have pretty good rhythm (better than your siblings but don't tell them I said so; they take after Daddy in this regard). It is fun to watch you imitate Jake and Finn from Adventure Time and some of their herky-jerky dances.
Even though you are my baby, I tend to think of you as my in-between child because your personality seems a blend of N and G and things were this way even when you were in utero. I kept thinking if I have gestational diabetes, it's a girl, and if I don't, then it's a boy. With you, I failed the first gestational diabetes test and passed the second. And my pregnancy sickness with you was dry heaves, an in-between of the nausea I had with N and the chronic puking I had with G.
You were the puzzle piece that completed our family, the child who brought an end to that yearning that things weren't quite done. Adding you to the mix made the picture perfectly clear.
I love you sweet boy,
Momma
This week you turned 4-years-old, and while you are doing so many wonderful big-boy things, like peeing on the potty all by yourself and going to preschool two days a week, your growth and development are bittersweet to me. Although you will always be my youngest child, you are most certainly not my baby anymore.
At four years, you are a very chatty little dude. While it takes a bit for you to warm up, once you feel comfortable around someone you don't stop talking. Ever. Your mind is so full of things you wish to share that your mouth has a hard time keeping up. If you aren't tripping over your own words, you are saying, "Hey. Hey. HEY!!!" to keep people's attention so they will listen.to.you.
Although you still defer to G in most everything, you have been known to tackle him if he takes things too far. When he tackles you back, you keep at him until both of you come crying to me. As much as I dislike seeing you two fight, I can't help but get tickled at seeing you give him what for. For the most part, though, you and G are partners in crime and very, very good buddies. Every morning at the bus stop, you give each other sweet, cuddly hugs, and when my ears are not available for twiddling, you often seek out G's ears for comfort.
You are also very sweet on N, or "Wa" as you call her. She tells you quite often that if you give her a kiss she will give you candy. You have given her zillions of kisses but haven't quite picked up on the fact that you have yet to receive any sort of treat.
One of your favorite activities is being pushed on the swing, and you also enjoy running along the chalk obstacle courses I make on the front sidewalk.
You sing all the time. One of my favorites is "Da wules. Da wules. Da wules of da classwoom." Each week you come home from school with a new repertoire of music in your vast mental collection. For a preschooler, you have pretty good rhythm (better than your siblings but don't tell them I said so; they take after Daddy in this regard). It is fun to watch you imitate Jake and Finn from Adventure Time and some of their herky-jerky dances.
Even though you are my baby, I tend to think of you as my in-between child because your personality seems a blend of N and G and things were this way even when you were in utero. I kept thinking if I have gestational diabetes, it's a girl, and if I don't, then it's a boy. With you, I failed the first gestational diabetes test and passed the second. And my pregnancy sickness with you was dry heaves, an in-between of the nausea I had with N and the chronic puking I had with G.
You were the puzzle piece that completed our family, the child who brought an end to that yearning that things weren't quite done. Adding you to the mix made the picture perfectly clear.
I love you sweet boy,
Momma
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