i feel guilty.
or complain. whatever.
it was cheaper and much more convenient than therapy.
but now you have outgrown all of that and are actually quite a hilarious, funny, delightful, little boy.
and i’m just too overwhelmed with everything else these days to sit down and write about it.
so i’m sorry. someday you may look back at this blog to see what your childhood was like. (since your search for a baby book laying around the house will be futile.)
(don’t judge. you were my 3rd child. and we moved. and then homeschooled. and then had another baby. and then mommy went to live at that psychiatric hospital…)
so anyhow, here is my attempt at redeeming your childhood.
because you are pretty much awesome.
you have recently renamed yourself moose.
and you are dead serious. you correct anyone who calls you mason.
you introduce yourself as moose with no shame whatsoever. you put your hands up as moose ears to your head when you pray, when you worship at church, for pictures… and pretty much just whenever you darn well please.
(this is your 4th birthday. never mind that i started working on this blog post long before this huge event and your birthday itself deserved its own post.)
when you first saw griffin at the hospital, you leaned in real close and whispered, “me moose. you baby moose.” i knew it was love if you were sharing your sacred title.
your intelligence level impresses me.
fortunately, for the sake of my own pride, i can take absolutely no credit in this. as i spend zero time each day actually attempting to educate you. sorry. but you figure things out on your own. such as the first 17 presidents, the books of the bible and random biology tidbits such as the fact that your lungs are filled with tiny air sacs.
you are obsessed with cars and legos, cereal and yogurt (and poop and behinds but never mind that…).
its funny to me that you will randomly declare you are tired some evenings or even afternoons and will just head on into your bed and put yourself right to sleep. i mean… what???? if anyone would have told me the first year of your life that this would be happening i would have laughed in their face.
or cried… and screamed, “don’t tease me!”
it’s super sweet how after i get griffin to sleep and lay him down in the room you two share, i sometimes turn to see you still awake on your bed with a big ol’ grin and you whisper real quiet, “tell me a God story?” our snuggle times at night are some of my favorites.
but one of my favorite theological discussions transpired just the other night when we discussed heaven. and how you only get there by knowing Jesus. and other cool tidbits about heaven which you translated in your head and passed on to others, such as, “and then you walk around on top of your piggy banks! and you can just pick up pennies and put dem in your pocket!” and then i saw you laying on your tummy in the hallway trying to talk under the bathroom door and i hear, “but bennett! there are even all deez monster trucks and you don’t even have to pay for dem!”
oh to be four…
your sheer honesty, when not completely frustrating, is actually kinda funny. like when dinner isn’t up to your standards and you refuse to eat it and we insist and then you look at us completely serious and declare, “but me frow up!”
the way you demand stuff all the time as if the world completely revolves around you is really annoying (and a little bit funny)
i love that you need “gasoline” for your chapped lips…
and the way you brought me your plate after lunch and said, “fanks, mom” and then saluted me…
and your laugh. how it lights up your whole face and comes from down deep in your belly…
and then how you kinda sigh when you are finished laughing and say to yourself, “me so funny…”
i love how you completely love your family…
the truth is, i could go on forever about how much joy you bring to this world.
but this blog entry has spanned the last 10 months of interrupted computer time and is beginning to turn into a dissertation. and its currently 4:38 and i haven’t heard from you in the past 45 minutes so i’m wondering what kind of mess awaits me and i also have no idea what i’m gonna cook for dinner and am slightly curious as to what ella and bennett are doing with griffin in their bedroom. so, this brings me to the end. for now.
i love you, moose. so much.
and so i conclude with my favorite prayer of yours:
“dear Jesus, thank you for me. amen.”