Four years old

Our birthday boy woke up Saturday morning to a present waiting to be opened on his bed. He was wired for the rest of the day and could hardly wait for evening and the actual party. We had a great day and combined the festivities with Grandpa, whose birthday is on the same day.


I can hardly believe that my sweet little baby is four years old. How is it possible that this confident, tall, energetic preschooler used to be a chubby little baby?

He is still such a sweetheart. We are so blessed to have him in our lives. I love every day that I get to spend with him, even the nights when he is coughing so hard that he throws up (like last week). I love watching him and talking to him. He is forever surprising me.

On the morning of his birthday, as I blow-dried my hair and he danced in the doorway of the bathroom waiting for me to be ready to go, I reminded him to say "Happy Birthday" to Grandpa, since it was his birthday as well.

"How old will Grandpa be?" he wanted to know.

"Grandpa is 51."

At this news, his jaw dropped. "Fifty-one?!?" "Wow that is old!"

I laughed, "Yes, it is old. Be sure and tell Grandpa that."

Then John walked by, "Daddy! Grandpa is fifty-one! That's old!" A slight pause while he considered it, "Is he going to die?"

"Well, eventually, yes."

"Wow."

Bear in mind that the child has only a fleeting concept of death. He asked this a cheerfully as he asked his next question, "Are you ready to go yet?"

And a word to the wise, relatives can be a very bad influence. Here is 3-month-old Janie, being held by Uncle Spencer. That thing in her fist? A match.