Saturday, May 25, 2013
Oliver Bear turns 4
Today you turn 4 years old and I can't believe how fast it's gone, how funny you are, and how much I love you. Four is a big number, it's almost all the fingers on one hand and you are so excited about getting to be a 'big boy'. This is in important term, as you keep reminding me that you are a 'big boy' and not to call you my 'baby'. But right now, kiddo, you are the baby in the family.
You are such a cute kid- people who see you coming ruffle your hair as you walk on by because you are so cute. "He's so cuuuute" people say to me. I know exactly what they are talking about. You are.
You love to play. Trains are your favorite right now- Thomas the Tank Engine is a big deal for you, but you're starting to get into things like Legos and Star Wars but only because Dad and James are, I think. Your best friends are Elijah Cosby and Westley Roberts- but because you have a hard time saying "l", you pronounce them "E-wai-jah" and "Wes-wee". It's. Adorable.
And because you're an easy-going guy, who will do anything that looks fun and have a good attitude about it all the time, everyone loves having you come over to play. You get along great with all the kids and when something is not right, you are full of righteous indignation. Sometimes.
Sometimes you can be a pill.
Sometimes you push all your big brother's buttons just to get him in trouble.
And that's annoying.
You love to help me cook. If I'm in the kitchen, you want to be there too, helping me make whatever I'm making. I think you'll be a great cook one day. You also love to wear the Captain America kitchen apron. It's a bit big, since you're tiny, but it's so cute. You're like a puppy. Big Head, tiny body. Irresistible.
You love to ride bikes, draw volcanoes with chalk, read books, snuggle, watch movies, eat popcorn, look at bugs, find things, dress-up like a pirate, and do most outside things.
I say "most" because there is one thing you hate.
I personally do NOT understand this, but you HATE HATE HATE big areas of water, swimming, even floating in a water-floatie just makes you angry with fear, and you end up screaming yourself hoarse. Every.Time.
This will not go on. I'm just letting you know now, so when you find yourself reading this years down the road, you will thank me for putting you in the strictest swimming lessons I could find. You. May. Not. Drown. Not while you are my child. So, while you'll probably hate me all summer, at least you will be alive.
We love you, Oliver Bear! You're my sunshine, a funny little love, a sweet boy, a swarthy pirate and a punk, but always we love you to bits!
Happy 4th Birthday to you!