You're Four Years Old!

Dear Connor,

As you may recall, at your birthday party last year, you fell backward off of a park bench and hit your head so hard that we had to call an ambulance to take you to the hospital. At your birthday party this year, we very thankfully didn't have to call 911 but about an hour after it started, you disappeared.

Your party was at an ice cream parlor and we had booked the whole place for your bash. One minute you were dancing with your friends while the Fresh Beat Band album was playing over the parlor's sound system, the next, Daddy asked me where you were and I didn't see you anywhere. I ran to the front of the shop: no Connor. I ran to the back of the shop and looked in the bathroom: no Connor. I ran back to the front of the shop and still couldn't find you, so I started to panic that you might have sneaked outside and gone into the street while no one was watching you. 

Fortunately, that's when your friend Bella's mom looked under one of the tables and found you sitting under it, quietly hiding from all of the chaos that generally comes with a big party of 23 adults and 21 kids (of which many are *loud* preschoolers). A wave of relief washed over me but yeesh, can we please have a birthday where you don't give me a heart attack?!

Your party actually had a lot more drama than I expected, as we got a glimpse of your teen years and the potential heartache you and your friends will experience. Hailey became a little jealous when she arrived at the party and saw you sitting next to Bella. And you and Marcus got into a shouting match when you both wanted to hug Bella. Four going on fourteen, apparently.

Missing child incidents and teenage drama aside, the rest of the party was fun! You had a blast working on art projects, dancing with your friends and eating your weight in sugar when you consumed two chocolate-iced cookies, a lollipop and two scoops of chocolate ice cream topped with M&Ms, rainbow sprinkles and hot fudge. Near the end of the party, you declared, "I really like my birthday!"

Back at home after the party, you told me excitedly, "I'm four now!" Yes, little man, you are! No longer a baby, no longer a toddler but officially a 4-year-old preschooler. Sometimes I see you and you look and act so mature that I do a double-take because I can't believe how much you have grown already. I love how perceptive and inquisitive you are now; you notice so much in the world around you and ask so many questions about why things are the way they are (ahh, yes, the "why" stage-- it is equal parts awesome and annoying for me). When you ask me why and I'm so tired that I just answer, "Because," you don't let me get away with that but keep questioning me until I give you the real answer (again, both awesome and annoying). I hope you will always be this curious.

I also hope that you will continue to be the amazing person you are right now. You are enthusiastic, energetic and fun-loving. You are affectionate, thoughtful and polite. You are talkative and articulate. You are a sweet and protective big brother. You love reading, playing board games and working on puzzles. You seriously love all things chocolate ("What do you want on your pizza, Connor?" "Chocolate!" "What kind of bagel do you want, Connor?" "Chocolate!" "Do you want a cheese sandwich?" "Do they have chocolate?"). And you make me laugh every day (like with how you say everything that happened in the past happened "yesterday" and things that happened a long time ago happened "all the way, all the way yesterday.")

Happy birthday, sweetheart! I love you so much and am so proud of you.

Love,
Mom

First Day of Preschool

Dear Connor,

Happy first day of preschool!

And yes, I cried as I watched you walk into the school with your new teacher and classmates. Those were the only tears of the day, though, When I picked you up, you were all smiles and said you'd had a good time!

Love,
Mom

Boys vs. Girls

Dear Connor,

How your sister plays with her baby Belle doll: Lila rocks her, pretends to feed her with her toy bottle and covers her with a blanket when it is time for her nap.

How you play with the baby Belle doll: You smack her in the face repeatedly with the xylophone stick and lay her on the floor before trampling her violently with the doll stroller.

Love,
Mom

Mr. Confident

Dear Connor,

As someone who has always struggled with insecurity, I really admire your confidence.

Exhibit A: In the car the other day, we were driving along and everyone was being quiet, lost in their own thoughts, when you suddenly blurted out, "Mommy, you know what? Everyone likes me."

Exhibit B: You were watching me put on makeup and asked if you could wear makeup. I said you don't need makeup because you're perfect. You responded very matter-of-factly, "Yeah."

Love,
Mom

Schooled By a Preschooler

Dear Connor,

I love it when you remember the lessons I teach you and hate it when they somehow come back to bite me in the butt. Your little sister was misbehaving last night while we were having dinner and you stopped eating to scold her. I told you, "Just eat. Don't worry about MuiMui. Just worry about yourself." You replied, "You shouldn't worry about yourself. That's being selfish." Schooled!

Love,
Mom

Pretend Mommy

Dear Connor,

This afternoon, you slipped a plastic Superman ring on your finger, put MuiMui's purse over your shoulder, started pushing the doll stroller around the dining room and said to me, "I'm the pretend Mommy and you're the real Mommy." Imitation really is the sincerest form of flattery :)

Love,
Mom

Planes, Trains and Automobiles

Dear Connor,

Your obsession with planes, trains, automobiles, buses, trucks, rocket ships and basically anything with wheels or wings began right before you turned 2 years old and is still going strong now that you're almost 4. When you were 2 and riding in the car with Daddy and me, you'd scream out whenever you saw a big vehicle on the road next to us: "TRUCK! TRUCK! Mommy, TRUUUUUCK!" Now, you still do the same thing, except you are more specific: "FLATBED TRUCK! SCHOOL BUS! CAR TRANSPORTER! Mommy, look! GARBAGE TRUCK! GARBAGE TRUCK! GARBAGE TRUUUUUCK!" (You are also way louder now, too, FYI).

It's funny how you fulfilled this boy stereotype and just naturally gravitated toward all things that move, even when Daddy and I didn't really do anything to encourage it (we bought you toy cars, sure, but also lots of gender-neutral toys like musical instruments, too). And it's really cute to see your face light up and to practically feel the excitement emanating from your body when a fire truck comes down the street or a helicopter flies overhead. There is an overpass above several train tracks that is not too far from our house and you love it when I take you there to watch all the trains go by. You could spend hours there and are so happy when a train zooms past, especially when the train operator sees you and blows the whistle to say hi to you. It's so sweet to see how much joy such a simple thing brings you.

And then there was the day they were repaving our street a couple of weeks ago. You sat on the steps outside our house, ate a snack and watched the asphalt pavers, steam rollers and dump trucks go up and down the street all afternoon. Gotta love such good free entertainment!

Love,
Mom