Saturday, February 7, 2015

A Boy Turns 5...


I never did post about your birthday last year..  I was so excited for that birthday because you were turning four.  Four is my most absolute favorite age.  Fours are curious, increasingly independent, creative, caring and their verbal skills grow by leaps and bounds.  And you did all of those things! and more....  Last year nearly killed me - about a thousand times over.  It nearly killed you, as well.  If anything, it is amazing that you were lucky enough to reach five.  ;)  Your never-ending, almost suicidal curiosity put my graying-hair into overdrive.  Your never-ending potty-training, mess-making, getting-into-things-you-shouldn't put me back on anti-depressants.  That's okay.  We'll get there buddy.  Let's be glad that you don't go to preschool, where the potty training would present a serious problem.  Your difficulty in this department gives me a clue as to just how BUSY your mind is.

Five will be a year of huge growth for you.  You are building with Legos like a champ.  You love to draw, you love to count and you repeat the things Owen is working on with his schoolwork.  I think that once you and I are ready to start formal school work later this year, you will do really well.

I love your love of life.  You are the epitome of 'gusto'.  You rode your first roller coasters a few weeks ago (Space Mountain was your favorite) when we visited Lego Land and Disneyland, and you LOVED it.  You loved the ocean, but oddly enough, only your toes got wet - as that was enough for you.  You watched the Star Wars trilogy (eps. 4,5 and 6) for the first time during the trip to CA and back, and you were hooked.  Star Wars-themed play has been a daily event ever since.  In a few weeks you will go skiing for the first time.  I will stay home with Owen, but I will worry about you every second.  I know you are breakable - you broke your leg last year.  As long as I live I will always think of you as vulnerable...fragile.  You are a big, strong boy with a big heart, but I can't shake that urge to be overprotective.  You insist on climbing tall trees, jumping down from high places, swimming in deep water, and constantly elude my radar and ride in the car without fastening your carseat belts.  Mayhem is your middle name.

This year will be another wild ride, I'm sure...

update: I've now posted a post-dated blog post about Colin's 4th.  I was riddled with guilt over that draft that has been sitting in my blog queue for a year now.