My sweet boy, you are 3-and-a-half years old! When I told you this, you asked, "So I'm not 3 anymore?!" You were a little confused but decided to be okay with this sudden change when I told you that it means that your fourth birthday party is getting closer.
Next time I write a birthday letter to you, you will be FOUR. And in preschool. I write those words now, but they haven't sunk in yet. I don't think they'll fully sink in until I'm watching you walk away from me into your classroom in September. These years are flying by, but I make a conscious effort to soak it all in-- every phase, every milestone, every joy, every challenge-- so that I don't look back one day and wonder how your childhood passed me by.
How to describe you at this age? You're sweet, thoughtful, loving, and kind. You're also serious, intense, smart, and funny. You're everything--wrapped up into a perfect little blonde-haired, blue-eyed package.
You run. Incredibly fast. We wonder if you'll be an athlete one day.
You love to read books. We get a new stack at the library every few weeks and you can always recite them by heart when it's time to return them.
You're an awesome big brother. You told me a few days ago that Macey is your best friend. Hearing that? Well, it pretty much melted my heart. When Macey naps, you ask me how much longer it will be until she wakes up. When she's awake, you're hugging her, sitting on the floor playing next to her, or crawling around the house with her. When I was pregnant, I wondered (okay, worried) how you'd do with a sibling. You and I had such a special, tight bond and I worried that you'd have a tough time "sharing" me with someone else. I was wrong to ever worry. It's clear to me every day how thankful you are to have a sibling.
You love your cousin, Will. That's nothing new. He'll be in your preschool class in the fall, which will make the transition easier for both of you. You play with Will at least a few times a week, and always are sad to see him leave. When you're not with Will, you like to know what he's doing every second of every day. You seem to think I have x-ray vision (and I haven't corrected you; I'll let you think I'm a superhero for as long as you'll believe it) because you ask questions like, "Is Will flushing his potty right now?" or "Is Will sitting in his rocking chair eating fruit snacks right now?" You ask these questions (which I always answer affirmatively) because you want to make sure you're doing the exact same thing as your best friend.
You're a gardener. No, really. You have developed quite the green thumb. Daddy has a garden out back and you ask several times a day if you can go check on it. You also water it, talk to the plants to help them grow, and show it off to anyone and everyone.
You still love Mickey Mouse, Jungle Junction, Imagination Movers, and Curious George, but you're starting to get into superheroes now too. Spiderman is your current favorite. I'm sure this fascination will only grow with age.
Your favorite toys right now are your Angry Birds, Mickey Mouse camper, Squinkies, and Hot Wheels.
I think you're left handed-- you typically eat and write with your left hand. I'll be excited if you are. Your middle name, Miller, was your great-grandpa's middle name, and you also have some facial characteristics that resemble "Papa". Papa passed away when I was pregnant with you, and Papa was a lefty. (Your grandfather and aunt Lauren are also lefties, so you have a decent shot of being one too, I think!)
You're a smart kid. You're very articulate. Your memory is impeccable. You'll recall minor details about toys and/or events that we haven't talked about in months. You know all of your shapes, colors, letters, and a lot of numbers. I'm excited to see what you learn in school!
You love to hear stories. Not just of the book variety, but you like me to tell you stories. Your favorite stories to hear are "boo boo" stories. You listen with concern when I recall getting stiches as a kid, or breaking my finger in middle school. Then you ask to hear the story again. And again.
My favorite recent Camden-isims:
When you were sick a few weeks ago, you said, "I don't feel good" a lot. After you got better, you kept saying it- when something didn't go your way. Then it morphed into, "I just don't feel good about this." So, when I tell you that you have to take a few bites of your peas at dinnertime, you'll sigh deeply and proclaim, "I just don't feel good about this."
The other day, I was buckling Macey into her car seat (you were already sitting in yours) and the wind blew, prompting me to yell "Oh!" You looked at me with concern and asked what was wrong. I told you that the wind blew my dress up a little bit and that I didn't want to show the neighbors my private parts (we've been having the 'private parts' discussion a lot lately, usually when I'm explaining to you why you can't run down the street stark naked). You looked thoughtful while you let my explanation sink in and then you nodded your head in understanding. "Yeah, you don't want to show the neighbors your privates. Because then they might come over and take them off." Umm...okay?!
So, that's you, my sweet boy. I'm so proud of the person you are. I couldn't ask for a better son. You made me a mom 3.5 years ago, and there's not a day when I haven't been thankful that I was given this job. You're so loved.
Love,
Mommy
Naps are a rarity these days, but I like to catch them when they happen because you still look so much like a baby when you sleep.
Checking out a baseball field with Macey.
A little afternoon nude water painting.
I love your little head peeking in from the background on this one.
My current favorite picture.
1 comments:
Time flies doesn't it? He's a sweetie. You and Matt have done a great job with him.
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