ready to party

This morning, I've been working hard to turn this:



Into this:

Because, this:

Sweet Aggie is ten.

And she's having a party tonight,

with them.

To Peter on your fourth birthday...

Peter on your fourth birthday-

On your birthday, you asked me,

Now that I am four can I go to school?”

“Not yet, dear. You’ll go next year.”
“ARGH! It’s taking forEVer!”

So you say, son. But to me, it is going ever so quickly.

This year, everyone goes to school except for you.  You watch them leave, and you stay with me, in this world of grocery shopping and laundry, preschool games and long nature walks. It is hard to say goodbye to “the kids,” hard to be the little guy home who still takes naps.  

But sometimes, especially after a weekend of noise and brothers fighting and volleyball tournaments, I think you look forward to our little days together, just like I do.  This morning, arms around my neck, you said softly, “Is today a mommy day?”  It was, and a special one at that. We went to Greenwood, and you helped me look at used books. You added to my cart happily for a little while. Then you began to pester, saying “Mommy, I really think we have enough books now.” But is there such a thing? I rewarded your patience with a trip to the pet store.  

Then, the mall- you played phonics games on my iphone while I got fitted for new running shoes. We rode the escalator, just for fun. Then, we had ice cream. You fell asleep in the car on the way home, blue stains on your chin and your shirt. When I unbuckled you, you yelled, “Now can we play the pigeon game?” and before I could even explain that it was naptime first, you were asleep again. I carried you inside (how much longer will I be able to do this? You are getting heavy) and I laid you in my bed. You stayed asleep while I took off your shoes and covered you up.  I turned on the white noise so you wouldn’t hear me chatting on the phone with my mom while you slept.

I love your after-nap snuggles these days. Sometimes we lay on the couch together. Or, you ask me, “Can we weed on the fwing?”  Sometimes we do, and that leads to raspberry-picking. God always seems to have some there, waiting for us, and you say “Thank you Jesus for raspberries!”  We also look for pumpkins growing- you helped me plant the seeds.  I love how you yell and jump about when we find a new one.

Right now, minions are hilarious to you, as are bottoms, chickens, and bodily functions. I suppose you will grow out of these things as you grow out of your need for snuggles. But for now, we mosey along together, spying the spider webs and the roly-poly bugs, hollerin’ loudly about the frogs and the turtles.

Thank you, Pete, for holding my hand at the mall today, for giving me little pieces of your little heart. I do treasure them.

Happy fourth birthday.

Love, mom.