You are turning four years old today. I’m pretty sure this year is going down in history as the fastest one ever. It makes me nervous for how fast the rest of this whole parenting thing is going to go. It seems like I just figure you out and then you go and change on me again. And each time you do I love you even more. I always think that this age, this one moment right here, couldn’t possibly get any better. But then it does.
We took your annual birthday pictures a couple of weeks ago. You also took some pictures in your Halloween costume, which was Belle from Beauty and Beast. From the moment you put that costume on you start calling everyone “your majesty” and even “Princess Daddy.” (He pretends like he doesn’t like it, but you should see the smile he gets when you call him that!) You were just a ham the entire time you were getting your picture taken, and when it was over, you told the photographer to look for you on Disney Blu Ray, your majesty. And then you bowed. I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.
You have such a big personality. Sometimes it is so big that it is easy to forget how very little you still are. It’s hard to remember that you are only just four when you engage the woman in the grocery store in a conversation about condensation on windows or how thunder is really just two clouds hitting together, obviously. It’s hard to think you are only four when you show off your bargaining skills and tell us that it’s okay if you have chocolate milk now, because you just won’t have any later. It’s REALLY hard to remember you are just four when you tell us that you don’t want to go to bed and you won’t ever stay in your room ever ever. The extra “ever” in there really sells it.
You started school in January. You are obviously very advanced because you were already moved up to the Blue Room, the four-year-old room, like a month ago. When you were still THREE. Clearly you are a brain the likes of which no one has ever seen. I drop you off at school and the very best part of my morning is when you run to the window to say bye to me when I’m walking to my car after leaving you in the classroom. And by “say bye” I mean yell at the top of your lungs. I watch you in the rear view mirror, waving to me the entire time I am driving down the driveway and until I make the turn out of your school. A couple weeks ago, I went out the front door and looked up at the window expecting to hear you yell at me like you always do, but you weren’t there. I waited a couple of seconds and then went to the car. I drove past the window and still no little head and arms waving like crazy. I was surprised at how sad that made me. I knew you were just inside playing with your friends, but I felt like this was the first taste of what it will be like when you realize your friends are cooler than your mom. I had just about gotten to the end of the driveway when I saw you bounce up to the window and start waving. You made my day with that wave, more so than any other morning.
I promise that I will always be there waving to you, whether you are at the window or not. I will wave to you when you get bigger and go to kindergarten. I will wave to you when you are playing sports or music or whatever it is you decide you love. I will wave to you that day when we run into your friends at the mall and you want to go off with them rather than hang out with your mom. I will wave to you even when it breaks my heart, like when you are going off to college or walking down the aisle. But I will wave to you. No matter what, I will be there. You are, and always will be, the very best thing I have ever done.I hope you have your best birthday yet, baby. I love you so much.
Your Momma
