PractiGal: Snapshot of a 4-year-old

To my dear son,

You are FOUR! How did we get to 4 already? I see why other Moms tell me that 4 was a favorite age. You're not a toddler anymore, and you're not quite a full-blown little boy. Oh, you're a little boy all right, but you're kind of in-between. And you are a blast!

You're becoming more and more independent, insisting that you do things "all by yourself." This is good. It can be time-consuming, but I stand back when you insist on dressing yourself.

Your imagination and creativity are running wild, and it's really fun to watch. Several times a day, you tell me that you're a cat. At the grocery store, you've told me that kitty cats don't sit in shopping carts, and I've asked you to pretend you're a little boy to get you into the cart.

Your favorite phrase is "Mommy, you pretend..."

"Mommy, you pretend a little girl goes to the kitty cat store..." or the baby store... or the robot store. I am the little girl, and you are the cat, the baby, or the robot. You are the Director and Producer of Play, and I am your actor and assistant.

At Christmas, you chose all orange foods for Santa and his reindeer. Now, every time we have orange juice, goldfish crackers, or carrots, you remind me to buy more so that we'll have enough for Santa.

I think you have at least one of every toy under the sun at this point, but your favorites are the "things that go..." Trains, cars, planes, and anything that can be made to "go." A piece of string, blanket fuzz. Anything really. Last week you played with a piece of Italian bread for a good hour -- with every bite, it became a new plaything.

Your obsession with Herbie the Love Bug continues. You call our car "Herbie," even though it's not a VW, and you and Herbie have daily conversations. Before we go anywhere, you go to the front of Herbie and have a quiet talk with him. I'm not allowed to listen in, but I think you tell him where we're going.

You're making friends at preschool and have been invited to some birthday parties. When I asked if you wanted me to stay or drop you off at one party, you chose the drop-off option. I walked around KMart while you were at that party, my stomach in knots. Not because I was worried about you -- but because I wondered how we got to this so fast!

You're starting to "get" some jokes. You like knock-knocks. Especially nonsense knock-knocks that you make up! And you're starting to get it when your Dad teases you.

You understand what "pooped" means, and you know that poop is bathroom talk. I think you enjoy saying pooped, knowing that there's another word in there. You've decided that "peeped" is the opposite of pooped. If you're not tired, you tell me you're peeped. Have I mentioned that you're a little nut?

Facial expressions fascinate you. On people, animals, and on drawings in books. "Why is he angry?" "Why is that man gasping?" "Why is the lady sad?" These are regular questions. One day I guess I looked kind of serious, so you asked me to lift my eyebrows. Mighty observant little guy, you are.

Your favorite foods are hot dogs and hot chocolate. You'll tell me you're cold, and that you "need" hot chocolate. Yes, I am on to you!

You devour books. We have tons of our own and always have a stack from the library too, because you like to read new books every day. You love Curious George and Clifford, and Mercer Mayer's Little Critters. You're really into your Thomas the Tank Engine magazine too. I love to watch you act out scenes from books and videos. My favorite is your reenactment of The Snowman.

So far, you're not interested in writing your letters, or even holding a pen or crayon the right way. I try with you every so often, but I'm not pushing it. You know your letters and are very interested in the sounds each one makes. I'm hoping you'll take to writing in your second year of preschool.

Of course you're a big boy, like your Dad. You always talk about what you'll do "when you're a big man." And yesterday you wanted to know when you'll be a big man. All I know is it will be too soon for me. You weigh 40 pounds and you're 42 inches tall. You're one of the bigger kids in your preschool class.

Even though you're a big kid, you're a teddy bear. A gentle giant. We're working on teaching you ways to stand up for yourself and be more assertive with other kids. We're glad you're not one of the aggressive kids, but we want you to be able to stand your ground. When you're old enough for karate, we're signing you up.

Funny that 4 years ago I thought I wouldn't know what to do with a little boy, coming from a family of girls myself. But of course you've shown me the way, and I cannot imagine life without you, my little boy.

I love you my sweet son,

Your lucky Mom

Comments

What a great letter! I hope you save this one for him. Brenna is not far behind and it amazes me what every day brings. Today she said goodbye to the red slide we were playing on as we left for dinner.

Posted by: Jody | Wednesday, April 16, 2008 at 11:12 PM

Happy Birthday to the Boy!! That, was a great "snapshot" Marie. It will make a nice memory for when he is older. As we have agreed on before, little boys are awesome.

Posted by: sarcasmom | Thursday, April 17, 2008 at 07:30 AM