Five years old
He's five. My Aden Levi is five today.
It's almost like we're playing pretend. Yes, son, you can pretend to be five for a little while, but then let's get back to reality where you're still my snuggly, chubby little blue-eyed baby.
Denial, she'll bite you right in the rear end. Because here we are.
Five-year-old Aden is growing every day, and so, so very strong. Solid as a rock. Loves impressing us with his strength too. Not at all out of place for him to walk into a room toting a chair or a suitcase or the vacuum cleaner.
Energy has subsided not one little bit over the years of his life. Trying to think this will not be a hindrance at school, that he has to visibly fight so hard to sit still for anything. He is compelled to move as much as he is compelled to breathe in and out.
Airplanes, tractors, trains, and trucks continue to top his preferred toy list. They crash. All of them. Frequently. Either into people or off some furniture cliff. Then there is an explosion. With full sound effects, of course.
The theme of destruction runs deep. Play doctor with him and you'll find yourself with some extremely strange malady with grim chances of survival. Beware if he wants to find a particular toy, as you will surely be struck by some piece of debris created by his frantic searching. In the interest of toe preservation, park yourself on top of the kitchen table if he takes off on his scooter or pillow racer. Plug your ears and grab the spackle if he opens his toolbox, 'cause those tools ain't made for fixin'!
Oh, my Taz. This is why we can't have nice things.
I read once that holes in the drywall are to moms of boys what costume changes are to moms of girls.
Yeah, we're there.
But my Aden. He may not be a baby anymore, but he is definitely a snuggler and loves loves loves loves his Mama. Better than anybody. Seeks me out first thing in the morning and bear-hugs my neck at night. When hurt, he will hold his breath and hold it together for however long it takes until he can fall into my arms and cry on my shoulder. Because even a tough guy shouldn't have to be tough with his Mama.
He is sweet and considerate. Very eagerly helps with chores and is quick to volunteer to do favors. Loves working with me on laundry and making his own lunch.
Which is bologna and cheese. Every. Day.
He's not the eater he once was, pretty much skipping dinner on non-spaghetti days. Rarely touches vegetables or meat, does OK on fruit and grain, and would eat cheese til he vomits. He's a grazer, complaining of hunger all day but only pecking at whatever is offered to him like a bored bird.
We are slowly learning to read. I'm trying so hard at the letter sounds method, but it's seeming he might be more of a sight word kid. Since the "Fly Guy" books are about all he will sit still for, his current list of sight words includes fly, guy, pet, stop, buzz, boy, met, and a few other random words. He's doing really well, and will be reading before we know it.
Extremely strong willed is our Aden, appropriate since he's basically Brandon in an Ashley mask. While he is getting better at controlling his angry outbursts, not getting his way usually ends in him shreiking softly and hitting himself in the head. As cute as he is, he is equally intense.
Kid is beyond terrified of thunderstorms. And that is all.
Is understanding more about God and His love, contributing more and more in our family devotion time.
Loves riding the lawnmower, going to the pool, dancing, going to baseball practice, talking about school, potty humor, staying up late on man nights, riding in Daddy's car and listening to rockin' music.
Still hopelessly devoted to Monkey.
Has terrible, horrible eczema on his arms.
Gets a bruise or other visible injury at least once per day, but usually has no idea of when or how it happened. Fairly routine for us to hear a collision, quickly followed by a shout of, "I'm OK!".
Mustmustmust have socks on when he gets into bed.
Snores. Still.
Cuts his own fingernails and toenails.
Pulls out practically every piece of plastic storage in our kitchen while I'm cooking, either to "cook" something for himself or to build a drum kit. Asks at least once a week if he can learn to play drums.
Has our hearts in a vice grip.
Aden Levi, who can believe you are five years old? What a blessing you are to this family, bringing life and energy and belly laughs and whole-face smiles into every single day. God surely has great plans for you, and how we pray that you will continue to grow in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men. We are proud of who you have become and are so excited for you to begin new adventures, learning and changing every day. Love you to the moon and back, baby boy! Happy birthday!
It's almost like we're playing pretend. Yes, son, you can pretend to be five for a little while, but then let's get back to reality where you're still my snuggly, chubby little blue-eyed baby.
Denial, she'll bite you right in the rear end. Because here we are.
Five-year-old Aden is growing every day, and so, so very strong. Solid as a rock. Loves impressing us with his strength too. Not at all out of place for him to walk into a room toting a chair or a suitcase or the vacuum cleaner.
Energy has subsided not one little bit over the years of his life. Trying to think this will not be a hindrance at school, that he has to visibly fight so hard to sit still for anything. He is compelled to move as much as he is compelled to breathe in and out.
Airplanes, tractors, trains, and trucks continue to top his preferred toy list. They crash. All of them. Frequently. Either into people or off some furniture cliff. Then there is an explosion. With full sound effects, of course.
The theme of destruction runs deep. Play doctor with him and you'll find yourself with some extremely strange malady with grim chances of survival. Beware if he wants to find a particular toy, as you will surely be struck by some piece of debris created by his frantic searching. In the interest of toe preservation, park yourself on top of the kitchen table if he takes off on his scooter or pillow racer. Plug your ears and grab the spackle if he opens his toolbox, 'cause those tools ain't made for fixin'!
Oh, my Taz. This is why we can't have nice things.
I read once that holes in the drywall are to moms of boys what costume changes are to moms of girls.
Yeah, we're there.
But my Aden. He may not be a baby anymore, but he is definitely a snuggler and loves loves loves loves his Mama. Better than anybody. Seeks me out first thing in the morning and bear-hugs my neck at night. When hurt, he will hold his breath and hold it together for however long it takes until he can fall into my arms and cry on my shoulder. Because even a tough guy shouldn't have to be tough with his Mama.
He is sweet and considerate. Very eagerly helps with chores and is quick to volunteer to do favors. Loves working with me on laundry and making his own lunch.
Which is bologna and cheese. Every. Day.
He's not the eater he once was, pretty much skipping dinner on non-spaghetti days. Rarely touches vegetables or meat, does OK on fruit and grain, and would eat cheese til he vomits. He's a grazer, complaining of hunger all day but only pecking at whatever is offered to him like a bored bird.
We are slowly learning to read. I'm trying so hard at the letter sounds method, but it's seeming he might be more of a sight word kid. Since the "Fly Guy" books are about all he will sit still for, his current list of sight words includes fly, guy, pet, stop, buzz, boy, met, and a few other random words. He's doing really well, and will be reading before we know it.
Extremely strong willed is our Aden, appropriate since he's basically Brandon in an Ashley mask. While he is getting better at controlling his angry outbursts, not getting his way usually ends in him shreiking softly and hitting himself in the head. As cute as he is, he is equally intense.
Kid is beyond terrified of thunderstorms. And that is all.
Is understanding more about God and His love, contributing more and more in our family devotion time.
Loves riding the lawnmower, going to the pool, dancing, going to baseball practice, talking about school, potty humor, staying up late on man nights, riding in Daddy's car and listening to rockin' music.
Still hopelessly devoted to Monkey.
Has terrible, horrible eczema on his arms.
Gets a bruise or other visible injury at least once per day, but usually has no idea of when or how it happened. Fairly routine for us to hear a collision, quickly followed by a shout of, "I'm OK!".
Mustmustmust have socks on when he gets into bed.
Snores. Still.
Cuts his own fingernails and toenails.
Pulls out practically every piece of plastic storage in our kitchen while I'm cooking, either to "cook" something for himself or to build a drum kit. Asks at least once a week if he can learn to play drums.
Has our hearts in a vice grip.
Aden Levi, who can believe you are five years old? What a blessing you are to this family, bringing life and energy and belly laughs and whole-face smiles into every single day. God surely has great plans for you, and how we pray that you will continue to grow in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men. We are proud of who you have become and are so excited for you to begin new adventures, learning and changing every day. Love you to the moon and back, baby boy! Happy birthday!
Comments