Four years old
Four years. How?
It seems like it should have felt like a long time, you know? And if I think about it long enough, it has been a long time.
But then I think some more, and it might have been just yesterday that you were in my belly. The world had no idea what was about to happen to it.
You, my child, from that very day have brought life into every place you have been. You have captured hearts without even trying. Those round, deep blue eyes. That sweet voice, and the way your monkey lips smooch out as you talk. Oh, the belly laugh. Your energy, your enthusiasm, your determination.
These things that are part of who you are, these precious traits that shout your name to all who love you - these have been yours from the beginning. Gifted to you from a God Who knows exactly how to best use them for His glory. Oh, my boy who smiles with his whole face. You are joy with skin on.
You squeeze every ounce of living out of every second of every day. Imagination is endless. Right now it's airplane races with your tiny little model planes. Or riding your brother's big-kid scooter all over the house, pretending to go to the bank. Or climbing under a bedsheet tent with me and your seventeen closest stuffed friends.
You prefer running to walking, grazing to actually eating, inventing games to following any rules. And when the day is over, you quote us a verse from your Bible, pray over things like your monkey and your Mama, then collapse into bed, already asleep before your head hits the pillow. Life more abundantly.
Focus is, um, not your strong point. I think it's because you don't want to miss anything. And you rarely do. For as busy and easily distracted as you are, if anything is new or different, you take notice. And your memory is sharp as a tack. But focus...not so much.
Aden, look at the camera babe. Just a few more.
Ah, but you're hard-headed. And stubborn too. We'll call it driven. Once you have a notion to do something, and to do it a certain way, nothing on earth could stop you. Fear of possible outcome or even punishment means nothing to you. When one of these actions gets followed up by discipline, you just take it like a man. Almost as if the deed was worth it. You're not big on advice or instruction either. Not getting your way has never made you whine, but sends you right into anger instead. "I am MAD with you!"
But most of the time, you go with the flow. You're just...happy. When you cry, we know you're really hurt. And though the accidents are plentiful, the tears, praise the Lord, have been few. You fear very little. Thunderstorms. One rather out-of-control kid on your baseball team. Bees (my fault). You jump into the pool with gusto, strut into new situations with peaceful confidence, and you've never met a stranger.
Your grandparents spoil you rotten, and you bask in every minute of it. Dr. Peppers, truck and tractor rides, Dove chocolates and mac and cheese up to your ears, and bigger and better hugs than anyone else on earth could ever give. I'm pretty sure your heart broke a little when school ended and we told you that your grandparents wouldn't be keeping you through these weeks. There's no love like grandboy love.
You love your Daddy, doing manly things together like riding the truck and working the garden. You love going anywhere with him - especially the snack store - and watching him do stuff on his iPad. You love your brother. Well, love in the little boy brotherly sense. Like, the kind of love where you'll put a piledriver on him for no particular reason. You copycat him, do whatever you can to get on his nerves, and walk away just pleased as punch.
But your Mama...there has been no truer love. Ever. You hug me a thousand times a day and tell me you want to marry me. I am your sun and moon right now, and forgive me for hoping that doesn't change for a while. This is a beautiful season. I love, love being your Mama.
You have learned and grown and changed much from last summer's three-year-old. What a sweet personality you have. You've become a friend to your Daddy and me. A sidekick. An exceptional helper. You make us laugh, cry, swoon, grit our teeth, yell, nuzzle, and pray. Hard.
Aden Levi, on this your fourth birthday, we praise the Lord for you and your amazing, precious life. Happy, happy birthday, blue eyes. You are our shiny star.
It seems like it should have felt like a long time, you know? And if I think about it long enough, it has been a long time.
But then I think some more, and it might have been just yesterday that you were in my belly. The world had no idea what was about to happen to it.
You, my child, from that very day have brought life into every place you have been. You have captured hearts without even trying. Those round, deep blue eyes. That sweet voice, and the way your monkey lips smooch out as you talk. Oh, the belly laugh. Your energy, your enthusiasm, your determination.
These things that are part of who you are, these precious traits that shout your name to all who love you - these have been yours from the beginning. Gifted to you from a God Who knows exactly how to best use them for His glory. Oh, my boy who smiles with his whole face. You are joy with skin on.
You squeeze every ounce of living out of every second of every day. Imagination is endless. Right now it's airplane races with your tiny little model planes. Or riding your brother's big-kid scooter all over the house, pretending to go to the bank. Or climbing under a bedsheet tent with me and your seventeen closest stuffed friends.
You prefer running to walking, grazing to actually eating, inventing games to following any rules. And when the day is over, you quote us a verse from your Bible, pray over things like your monkey and your Mama, then collapse into bed, already asleep before your head hits the pillow. Life more abundantly.
Focus is, um, not your strong point. I think it's because you don't want to miss anything. And you rarely do. For as busy and easily distracted as you are, if anything is new or different, you take notice. And your memory is sharp as a tack. But focus...not so much.
Aden, look at the camera babe. Just a few more.
Ah, but you're hard-headed. And stubborn too. We'll call it driven. Once you have a notion to do something, and to do it a certain way, nothing on earth could stop you. Fear of possible outcome or even punishment means nothing to you. When one of these actions gets followed up by discipline, you just take it like a man. Almost as if the deed was worth it. You're not big on advice or instruction either. Not getting your way has never made you whine, but sends you right into anger instead. "I am MAD with you!"
But most of the time, you go with the flow. You're just...happy. When you cry, we know you're really hurt. And though the accidents are plentiful, the tears, praise the Lord, have been few. You fear very little. Thunderstorms. One rather out-of-control kid on your baseball team. Bees (my fault). You jump into the pool with gusto, strut into new situations with peaceful confidence, and you've never met a stranger.
Your grandparents spoil you rotten, and you bask in every minute of it. Dr. Peppers, truck and tractor rides, Dove chocolates and mac and cheese up to your ears, and bigger and better hugs than anyone else on earth could ever give. I'm pretty sure your heart broke a little when school ended and we told you that your grandparents wouldn't be keeping you through these weeks. There's no love like grandboy love.
You love your Daddy, doing manly things together like riding the truck and working the garden. You love going anywhere with him - especially the snack store - and watching him do stuff on his iPad. You love your brother. Well, love in the little boy brotherly sense. Like, the kind of love where you'll put a piledriver on him for no particular reason. You copycat him, do whatever you can to get on his nerves, and walk away just pleased as punch.
But your Mama...there has been no truer love. Ever. You hug me a thousand times a day and tell me you want to marry me. I am your sun and moon right now, and forgive me for hoping that doesn't change for a while. This is a beautiful season. I love, love being your Mama.
You have learned and grown and changed much from last summer's three-year-old. What a sweet personality you have. You've become a friend to your Daddy and me. A sidekick. An exceptional helper. You make us laugh, cry, swoon, grit our teeth, yell, nuzzle, and pray. Hard.
Aden Levi, on this your fourth birthday, we praise the Lord for you and your amazing, precious life. Happy, happy birthday, blue eyes. You are our shiny star.
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