He turns four and there is no big celebration. Just three days into this new year and all is still and quiet and he turns the double peace sign - four.
A cupcake, a balloon, and me telling him to slow down as he explains that big boys are four.
We sit at the table and eat cereal together. Just me and this big guy.
I ask him . . .
Do you feel any different since you are four?
He slips off his chair and looks himself over, eyes move from chest to feet.
With heavy sigh he slaps himself on the forehead and pushes up those soft bangs I gently brush back at least a dozen times a day, he holds his hand there and moans,
Oh no, I da same size I was when I was thee.
No baby, I think you are a little taller. It's just hard for you to see.
He grins at me as his hair falls into place and he sits, stuffing his mouth with rainbow colored cereal. He knows my game and laughs.
I da same size Mommy, but dat ok.
And just days later I slip into my room hours after dark to see that he fell asleep with his socks on his hands.
Those hands that hold up four chubby fingers in the shape of a double peace sign when asked,
How old are you?
I fore, a big boy now.
My gratitude list continues . . .
quiet birthdays
the smell of homemade chocolate icing
blue candles
leftover birthday plates
leftover birthday plates
Buzz Lightyear shirt too small, too dirty
quietly tiptoeing in the dark to gently remove a shirt worn for days, trying not to wake sleeping child
clothes washing at midnight
birthday cards and wishes from cousins
a boy too happy to mind the simplicity
birthday cards and wishes from cousins
a boy too happy to mind the simplicity
memories of three
conversations over cereal
little feet outgrowing shoes - and shirts
little feet outgrowing shoes - and shirts
laughter with mouth open big, milk spilling out
my little boy, four now
My list, #'s 466-479.
