Monthly Update: 48

Dear Foster,

Last month we celebrated your fourth birthday.  And by celebrated, I mean I got the stomach flu and had to miss your party.  Then I cried.

You wanted your party to be at Grandma and Grandpa's house this year.  A request with which I did not argue because I am not crazy.  No cleaning the house, no decorating, no un-decorating, no cleaning the house.  Thank you for being so thoughtful.  So prudent.  Or maybe, psychic?  I mean, I couldn't have done any of those things anyway and we would have had to cancel your party here.

About a week before your birthday your daddy and I noticed some maturity peeking through.  We hadn't seen maturity in, oh, a year?

Three was awful.  Whoever came up with the "terrible twos" obviously had never parented a three year old.  Geesh.  I even went back and looked at my archives and there aren't many entries from last year.

You were a turd.  The end.

However, at four, you are all the sudden agreeable and thoughtful.  Still silly.  Still busy.  And, dare I say, pleasant.

Your school work is phenomenal.  To me anyway.  You have learned to trace like a champ and even write letters on your own.  Your favorite letter is F, of course.  And when you see the letter F you immediately tell me, "there's the letter F for my name!"

Thankfully your self esteem is not a problem and earlier today when you were riding your bike, you were yelling, "I'm out of this world!"  A neighbor heard you, began to smile, then said,  "Now that's a positive attitude!"

Yes, your attitude is much more positive now that you're four and I am so thankful for that.  There were days last year I didn't think I would survive.  Now there are just moments.  You can still pitch a fit, but when I discipline you, it actually works.  One discipline doesn't lead to another to another.  It just works.  Sometimes even just the threat.

Minnie, our oldest cat, died just after Christmas and your reaction was velly intellesting.  One minute you were crying and running away from me and the next you were helping your daddy bury her.

Sometimes you talk about her as if she's still part of the family, which I find endearing so I don't correct you, but other times the memory of her death brings up questions about death and Heaven.

Having been told that we will get new bodies in Heaven, today you asked if we would have fins.  Like fish.  Or maybe we'll become mermaids once we're in Heaven.

Maybe so.

Your sister is now 8 months old and you are very sweet to her.  If she drops a toy, you pick it up.  If she's crying and I can't get to her, you distract her.  Sometimes you even kiss her for no reason.  You don't seem to mind that I have to leave you alone in order to feed and rock her.  You have become content to watch a movie with your friends.  Your stuffed animal friends.  The same friends we had to start confiscating when you refused to poop on the potty.

One of my biggest fears before Jane Alice was born was that you'd regress in the potty training department, and boy howdy!

You were completely potty trained just prior to her birth, but once she was born, you stopped pooping on the potty and here we are 8 months later still working on it.  Selah.  (Like amen at the close of prayer, selah stresses the importance or reality of what was said.  Or, as our pastor says, You think about that!)

Selfishly I miss your baby talk, as you can now make the "th" sound.  I preferred sank you over thank you and birsday over birthday and dat over that and bass over bath, but you are four now and your maturity means that when I say I love you, you say you love me more.  And sometimes you tell me I look beautiful, like a princess.  And often you ask me to keep you company and to get under the covers with you during story time.  So I tearfully say goodbye to your baby talk while I joyfully welcome your affection.

Foster, I love you more than I can say and I'm so proud of the person you're becoming.  You are very conscientious about how we treat others and the earth.  Very curious about God and His word.  Very smart.  And very cute.  I could go on and on.

You are my favorite boy.

xoxo,

Mama