Year 12 - Year End Review

Oh, my favorite little bear1. You’ve hit the last year before teenagerdom, and I forever love having this front-row seat. You continue to amuse and amaze me, and I can’t believe these are your last Top 10 lists as a nonteenager.

Top 10 Favorite Things:

1. Lego 

2. Aggravating your dear sister (she’s still got a few inches and 20+ lbs on you, but you still whip up on her)

3. The Lord of the Rings (it took a few times of you trying to read through the Hobbit and the first LOTR book <”Why does Tolkien take 8 paragraphs to describe a tree?”>, but now you’re a huge fan)

4. Youth group - after 6 years of wanting to be old enough, the time has come

5. Your mom. Both the person as well as saying that phrase no fewer than 483 times a day.

6. Fairness

7. Playing Fall Guys and Rocket League on the Switch

8. Doing outdoorsy stuff with Dad

9. Cool trucks

10. Carbs (pizza, pasta, sushi, cake, donuts, biscuits - you’re an equal-opportunity carb appreciator)

Top 10 Least Favorite Things:

1. Beans, tomatoes, most soups (you graciously tolerate my <amazingly delicious> chicken soup), saucy foods, cooked fruit

2. Dogs

3. Bees/wasps/yellow jackets 

4. Talking to people you don’t know well

5. Saving money

6. Reading out loud

7. Meanness

8. Cleaning up all the Legos in your room (you often have your floor covered in Legos; 5 or 6 years ago, I told you you needed to clean your room. You told me that you like your Legos on your floor because it keeps the robbers and demons out of your room. It’s hard to argue with that kind of logic …)

9. Not having a phone

10. Lotion - which is a bummer since you have super dry skin

Top 10 Things You’re Good At:

1. Lego, specifically designing swords and Star Wars-y vehicles

2. Math and science

3. Drawing - it’s been cool to see you develop your own style of drawing

4. Following the rules

5. Mowing the lawn

6. Making people laugh, though we often talk about quality vs. quantity in terms of jokes

7. Asking deep questions; your curiosity is wonderful

8. Burping the alphabet - this happens to take the #1 spot on list of the Top 10 Things Your Mom Doesn’t Like

9. Directions - you’re really observant when we’re in the car

10. Ice skating

Top 10 Things You’re Not Good At:

1. Keeping your Lego creations together. It fascinates my brain how you can spend hours putting together a giant and intricate set … and then, some amount of time later (a few days to a few months), you break it apart so you can build something different and/or better. 

2. Being excited about trying new foods

3. Keeping your plate in front of you when you eat - it’s usually off to the side from where you’re sitting at the table, which means you’re usually twisting your body so that it’s in front of your plate

4. Speaking German

5. Not getting injured; it seems like you’re always covered in bruises and scratches

6. Enjoying playing a game you’re losing in

7. Pole vaulting

8. Tying balloons

9. Doing math without doodling

10. Snapping your fingers

What a year of growth you’ve had. You’ve grown physically for sure - you’re up to 5’2” (the height Natalie was 18 months ago) and you don’t show any signs of slowing down. You’ve grown emotionally, which, for your age, sometimes means that your emotions are all over the place. You’ve grown spiritually as you continue to ask deep and hard questions. You’ve grown smarter, and you’ve become quite a writer this year. You continue to ask deep questions about God, and I pray those never stop.

The preteen emotions have definitely arrived. You’ve seen Natalie over these past few years to know just what a wild effect hormones can have on a person, so they didn’t completely catch you by surprise. But it’s still pretty jarring to feel normal one second, completely devastated the next, and end up completely furious - with nothing specific to trigger those emotions. We’re doing a lot of talking and I’m trying to get you to do a lot of laughing. Ridiculous emotions deserve to be laughed at from time to time. 

You and Dad went on a camping trip recently. You had the best time, and I’m so glad I didn’t hear many of the details before you guys left. Hearing about the trails and the cliffs and other drop-offs definitely raised my blood pressure a bit. But the grin on your face as you told me all about it reassured me that this was just what you and Dad needed. I’m so thankful you two had this time together. 

Here are a few more highlights from these past 12 months:

• You got the DJ to RickRoll our friend’s wedding reception. It was hysterical.

• You went to Ninja camp and Junior Park Ranger camp this summer

• You built no fewer than 693 original Lego creations

• You held a giant snake at school

• You finally got old enough to join our church’s youth group

• You got to drive a Corvette simulator 

Keep doing what you’re doing, sweet boy. Keep seeking the Lord. Keep loving your friends and family well. Keep asking the tough questions. Keep doing what’s right even if you’re doing it on your own. Keep your sensitive heart. Keep your eyes on Him as He leads you. 

(And also, keep aggravating your sister. It’s good for her.)

Hugs and smooches,

Mom & Dad

1 You’ll always be my favorite bear, but your description as ‘little’ likely won’t last for many more years. But let’s be for real - even if you end up at 6’5”, I’ll still call you little. Cuz I can. 

2018-2019 School Year - Charlie's Recap

The Bear is now in second grade!

The first day of school (which was the first day of our homeschool tutorial) began with you not wanting me to leave you. Your face crumpled up and you clung to my neck, furiously regretting your decision to get in the car that morning. Fast-forward to the end of the year and instead of a crumple-y face, you had a sticky, cotton candy-y face plastered with an enormous grin. I knew you’d love it. And I also knew you’d have to come to that conclusion in your own time (which only took about two weeks).

You blazed through your math book this year. You still maintain that you don’t like math, that you just happen to be really good at it. (I gave you a side-eye as I typed that). Your handwriting improved a lot this year, too. I wish I had started it at the beginning of the year and not just a few months ago, but I had you write a journal entry every day and draw a picture about what you wrote. You could write about whatever you wanted to, but well over half of your entries had to do with Star Wars.

You can read really well, but it’s our little secret. I won’t tell anyone. You have yet to really enjoy reading anything other than your Lego magazine, books about Legos, books about Star Wars, and books about Lego Star Wars. But hey, whatever floats your boat. Or Death Star. Whatever.

Now let's go and build a Lego beach (because, let's face it, that's really the only kind of beach I enjoy) because IT'S SUMMER VACATION TIME!

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

Month 68 - Recap

My best bear,
So I don't even think you know I do these recaps. Or don't do, as has been my normal for the past few months, but that's neither here nor there ... But since your darling older sister called out my slacker tendencies on keeping up with your recaps, I got back on the wagon with hers. But I can't very well recap her life and leave yours out (I mean, I can - #secondchildprobs - but I won't).

So you're now a graduate of K4 at First Presbyterian Preschool in Dothan and are now enrolled as Student #2 in the Smith Academy of Occasional Learning and Constant Cheese Consumption. I'm still working on our school's name, but the point is that I'll be homeschooling you for kindergarten. I'm both nervous and excited to be teaching you both. This will be a year of growth, full of laughs and tears, lasting memories and occasional eye rolls. But let's stop talking about me.

We got you a new bike. I don't expect Daddy and me to receive an award for Most Observant Parents for When It's Time to Upgrade Their Child's Bike. See, you've had the same Cars bike for pretty much your whole life. It's not like your bike has grown with you through the years so I'm not sure why it really never occurred to us to get you a bigger bike. With each inch you've grown, your bike looked more and more ridiculous. But you know what's funny? Daddy and I didn't even realize it (until a few weeks ago). I mean, we sort of did, but not fully. I guess we didn't realize how much you had grown (newsflash, self: a kid grows a lot in three years *facepalm*). 

Nashville is anything but flat, so we're all getting used to riding bikes over these hills (the only hills we encountered in SE Alabama were a speed bump or two). After our 2nd or 3rd bike ride, Daddy and I realized that you were struggling a lot to keep up. And it wasn't for lack of trying; you were pedaling like a mad man. It was because your bike was made for a wee baby child. So we upgraded you to the size of bike that Natalie had and upgraded her to the next size up. And wouldn't you know it, your legs aren't a blur anymore on our bike rides. Now we just need to work on our endurance. Because, oof.

A few days ago Daddy gave you and Natalie the task of bagging all the leaves from the backyard. Because of having longer arms and three years more focus, she finished bagging her piles that same evening. You, however, only finished half of your piles. It was supposed to rain the next day so I wasn't counting on the job getting finished. But after breakfast the next morning, you got your socks and shoes on and informed me that you wanted to finish you job. You were outside for an hour, bagging up the soggy-from-the-overnight-storm leaves. Never once did you complain (except for when you saw a bug. I tried to tell you that it's normal to see bugs outside, especially in leaf piles, but you were having none of it).

You finished your job without me prompting you. You knew it had to be done, so you did it. No fuss, no whining (minus the bug, of course), just hard, sweaty work. And it was probably the most proud I have ever been of you in my whole life. What may have seemed like a simple action speaks volumes about your character. I pray integrity continues to be a habit, that it becomes fully ingrained into your very person. I don't want you to shy away from hard work because it's everywhere. The Lord has given you a sweetness and compassion that's incredibly endearing - and couple that with a desire to work hard? My boy, you'll be a force to be reckoned with.

Hugs and smooches,

Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for August 9, 2017:

• North Korea Mulling Plan to Strike Guam, State Media Announces
• Google may face lawsuit alleging gender discrimination
• Ex-Astronaut Offers Bold Three-Step Plan to Put Humans on Mars
• Paris Police Hunt BMW After Soldiers Rammed in Levallois-Perret
• 'Rhinestone Cowboy' Crooner Glen Campbell Dies at 81
• Disney removing content from Netflix to make way for its own streaming service

Months 63 & 64 - Recap

Hello second child,
Whoops. Forgot about Month 63. Well, I mean, I didn't forget about Month 63. We did things, you built Legos, you aggravated your sister, you ate lots of carbs and cheese - it was a good month. But I forgot to document that month on time. Soooo yeah. My bad.

Know what else I forgot? I forgot to check your school bag one Friday in Month 63 that informed me that you were scheduled to be the Start Student for the following week. I didn't check your school bag until five minutes before we left for school the Monday of your Star Student week. I read the letter informing me of this Most Highest Honor in K4 and telling me the necessary supplies (five photos of the aforementioned Star Student and a questionnaire) and was all "Oh SNAP. I stink at momming." I told you how I messed up and you looked positively brokenhearted. But you mustered up all the maturity a five-year-old could muster and told me "It's ok, Mommy. Don't worry about it. I don't have to be a Star Student." And I was all "Oh no way, Jose. You're going to be a Star Student. This was my fault so I'll fix it." And your darling teacher did indeed fix it. You got to be the Star Student for Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday (you had a dentist appointment on Tuesday) and the entire next week. You were beaming from ear to ear. Your teacher is the cat's pajamas.

You've been doing magic tricks lately. And darn it if your magic tricks aren't some of the cutest things on the planet. Your showmanship is an A+. Your slight-of-hand, however, is a solid D. For your "pick a card, any card" trick, you fan out a stack of cards. We pick a card, look at it, then hand it back to you. Then you (oh-so obviously) put that card on the bottom of the stack. You make a dramatic show of saying abracadabra and waving your magic wand then you pull the bottom-most card while you say "Is this your card?" And, shock-of-all-shocks, it is our card! You're so pleased with your magic trick that you run back to your bedroom to bring out another one.

This trick involves a hat. You bring out your baseball hat turned upside down (so the open end is facing up). You wave your magic wand over the hat and say "I'm going to make a ball appear out of the hat." After a few abracadabras, you turn over the hat and, voila! A ball falls out! Amazing! Stupendous! You love explaining the 'secret' of how there was a ball in the hat THE WHOLE TIME! Who woulda thunk it?! NOBODY, I tell ya.

You've turned the top of your dresser into a one-of-a-kind Lego city. At any one time, it has a church, a school, a jail, a construction site, Batman fighting Spider-Man, and various assortment of cars and boats. It's beyond fantastic. And you're so proud of it.

My momma heart is often at the verge of bursting when it comes to you, sweet boy. You're simply one of a kind.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for March 9, 2017:

• Texas woman uses social media to give homeless man new lease on life
• Trump Admin Ups Drone Strikes, Tolerates More Civilian Deaths: Officials
• Fierce Nor'easter Goes Easy on Most Big East Coast Cities
• Kids Crash Professor's BBC Interview on Live TV
• Somali pirates demand ransom for oil tanker, EU force says

Month 62 - Recap

My sweet master builder,
Like I wrote in Natalie's recap, Daddy and I mixed up Christmas this year for you and Natalie. Instead of letting you two rip open all of your presents within 20 minutes and then find yourselves overwhelmingly surrounded by toys, we insisted that you two play with each toy after you open it. It prevented you from being overwhelmed ("I don't know what to play with FIRST!!! Waaaaaa!!!") and it allowed Christmas to last all day (and to even extend to the next day).

You got some cool books and toys but your big gift was a cool Lego police station (that your awesome mom found for 50% off). You usually put together Lego sets and then immediately disassemble them and make your own creations out of the pieces. My Type-A brain shudders every time you do this but I'm learning to just look away when Chuckzilla comes to destroy something. And honestly, the things you create with a pile of random pieces blows me away. I pretty much need an instruction sheet to build anything more intricate than a MiniFigure but you can build the most amazing things from just your imagination. You're quite the master builder indeed. I've asked if you'd just prefer a big bucket of Legos instead of sets since you never keep the sets together but you insist you like the sets better. Color me confused.

Anywho, we bought you the Lego police station and I assumed two things:

1. You'd need a LOT of help since it's a pretty giant set
2. You'd (we'd) build it and then immediately tear it apart to build one of your creations

I was wrong on both accounts. Well, kind of wrong. You put together about 80% of it yourself. You have a hard time following each instruction and sometimes would prefer to just skip to step 10, having ignored step 4 and 8. But by the time step 11 would come around, you'd get all frustrated because some piece wouldn't fit because of the critical pieces you left out in the steps 4 and 8. So we had to help you a few times by retracing your steps and making sure you included all the pieces. But we had to help you a lot less than we were expecting.

You had the entire set built in three days and you kept it perfectly assembled for almost three weeks. This is a new Charlie Bear Record. Then, a few days ago, you decided that a tornado passed through the town and destroyed the police station. You haven't tried to build anything with the pieces yet, choosing instead to leave the mayhem just as it is. Good times.

These are indeed good times. YOU are a good time, my angel bear. I'm so tickled to be your momma.

Hugs and smooches,

Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for January 9, 2017:

• President-Elect Trump Lashes Out at Meryl Streep After Golden Globes Speech
• Ft. Lauderdale Airport Shooting Suspect Heads to Court
• Wilkes Barre Faces Heroin Scourge Turning it into the Most Unhappy Place in America
• Subway Strike Brings London to Standstill, Strands Millions
• The U.S. Dropped an Average of 3 Bombs Per Hour Last Year
• TV news report prompts viewers' Amazon Echo devices to order unwanted dollhouses

Month 61 - Recap

My darling boy,

You've prayed the sweetest prayers this month. I'm not sure if you've learned them at school or what - I need to ask your teacher about them. But when we do our family prayers before bed, yours have gone something like this:

"Dear God,  

Thank You for this day and thank You for Your love. (This is usually the standard prayer intro that you and Natalie use.) Please be with the widows and orphans and help the orphans all find mommies and daddies. And help those who are lost be found. And help those who are sick feel better. And please help our Christmas presents to be fun. Amen."

My sweet five-year-old is praying for widows and orphans, are you kidding me? My weepy Momma heart is a MESS.

Know what's also a mess? Your room. Know what's also a mess? Your ability (inability?) to share. But I digress. 

You had your Christmas program at preschool today. After all the kids loaded up on the risers on the stage, I could see you scan the audience looking for us. Once you found us your face broke into your huge Charlie Bear Grin. Then you tried to play it super cool by winking at me. Seriously. You winked at me. Then you gave me a little smirk. There you go making my Momma heart into another mess. Your special part in the program was playing the green handbell during Joy to the World. That song has never sounded cuter.

Just because my momma heart has been a mess this month doesn't mean it isn't pleased as punch with you and the young man you're growing up to be. My momma heart is full. Now go clean your room.

Hugs and smooches,

Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for December 9, 2016:

• Obama orders probe of Democrat email hacks that rocked election
• 4 Homegrown Zika Cases Found in Texas
• Hero-Astronaut John Glenn to Lie in State in Ohio
• Giraffes Could Face 'Silent Extinction,' Conservationists Warn
• 'Will & Grace' star hints at reboot: 'There is a very good chance'

Month 60 - Recap

My sweet FIVE-YEAR-OLD,
Yes, I meant to yell that part. I love birthdays and I love celebrating people and I love each new stage of my kiddos' lives. I've never been one to boo-hoo the passing of a previous stage; I'm the one who likes to look at baby and toddler pictures but doesn't long to relive those seasons of life again. So you being five is awesome, incredible, amazing, and such fun. You're such a great little boy.

I forgot to mention it in a previous recap but you got a ribbon in Ninja class for mastering the underswing move. What is the underswing move, you may ask? I have no idea. When I asked you, you were equally as clueless. Though you did provide this helpful tidbit of information: "Um, I think it was when I was swinging under something, Momma." Cool, thanks. That explains so much. Regardless, you got a cool ribbon. And when you're a kid, that's all that matters.

I made your birthday cake this year. You said you wanted a Lego birthday party, so a Lego birthday you had. And I made a Lego brick cake. Pinterest made it seem so easy ... famous last words. A few hours later and a few less-than-family-friendly words later, what was in front of me was a Lego cake. Or, well, a Lego-esque cake. Or, maybe, it perhaps would have looked like a Lego cake if you had the vision of Mr. Magoo and you didn't have your glasses on.

But the wonderful thing was that you liked it. You thought it was awesome. You thought it was the coolest cake in the world. And when you saw that I wasn't 100% happy with it, you put your arm around me and said "Mommy! It doesn't have to look exactly like the picture! I don't care about that! I think it looks awesome and I bet it tastes yummy!" I just love you, my darling boy.

(And you know what? It totally tasted awesome. Boom.)

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for November 9, 2016:

• Donald Trump is President-Elect of the United States (When you're older, we'll talk about this election, because DUDE. It was a hot mess. And this headline shocked practically everyone.)
• Trump Captures Presidency in Stunning Upset of Clinton
• Republicans Maintain Control of US Senate
• The Canadian Immigration Site Actually Crashed On U.S. Election Night
• 3 States Look Set to Legalize Recreational Marijuana Use
• Prince Harry Condemns 'Harassment' of Girlfriend

Month 59 - Recap

My sweet boy,
You've been Lego-ing nonstop this month. You've built no fewer than 10 original police cars, police boats, and police planes. Your creativity is astounding.

Your preschool had their K4 Tea Party (it was actually a T Party, since you were learning about the letter T that week) a few weeks ago, and I'm just now beginning to recover from all the cuteness. I had heard about how fun it was from a friend whose older kids had all done it before but it wasn't until I experienced it with my own child, specifically my own boy, that I understood. It. Was. Precious.

For a few weeks before the party, your teachers worked with the class on manners, learning "I'm a Little Teapot", and practicing the polite way for young men to walk young ladies to their seats. Daddy wasn't able to come to your Tea Party so the night before the party, you showed him what you learned by leading Natalie to her seat. You held her hand and the two of you walked to the table. You pulled out her seat, she sat down, and you pushed her chair in. And you were none too quiet when you tried to push in the chair of someone who's three years older than you. You groaned, you heaved, you strained, you gave a gigantic WHEW! when you were done. All of us were laughing hysterically at this but we did have a little conversation afterward.

Me: Hey bud, please know you cannot make those noises when you push in the chair of the girl in your class. Girls rarely think it's funny when you make grunty noises when you push in their chair.
You: I know, Mommy! But Natalie just weighs SO much more than the girls in my class. It was really hard to push her in. I'm not that strong!
Me: Well of course you are. And also, don't comment on some girls weighing more or less than other girls. Girls rarely think that's funny either.
You: *sighs*

On the morning of the Tea Party you got dressed in a white button-down shirt, a blazer, a zipper tie (the best invention on the planet), khaki shorts, and slip-on shoes. (The last two items were because I can only push the fancy clothes thing so far with a four-year-old). You took one look at yourself in the mirror and said "I look like a businessman!" I agree. An impossibly adorable, incredibly precious businessman.

Your class was full of ties, hair gel, feather boas, flowers, hats, sparkles, lace, and jewelry. I loved it all.

You led a little girl to her seat without any problem and pushed her chair in with nary a sound. I was so proud. You used your manners while you ate and you kept your napkin in your lap. And then your internal stopwatch went off and you immediately wanted to stop with the Tea Party nonsense. You wanted nothing more than to change into your Batman shirt and favorite blue shorts. So we did (along with everyone else in your class). And the world was right.

I love that you participated in your Tea Party. I love that you know about manners (even if you don't use them all the time). I love that you hold doors open for ladies. I love that you're my boy. And I love that this is your last month before you become a whole hand years old. Say whaaaaa?

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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• Hurricane Matthew Kills at Least 20 in US as North Carolina Faces 'Major Destruction'
• Second Presidential Debate Promises Ugliness After Trump Tapes
• Rapid Response Poll: 43 Percent of Americans Say Trump Should Withdraw from Race
• Poll: Clinton Unpopularity at New High, on Par With Trump
• 5 Killed in Wrong-Way Crash Were in High School
• 'Warrior Dash' Climbing Obstacle Collapses; 4 Hospitalized
• Celine Dion Celebrates 1,000th Show in Las Vegas

Month 58 - Recap

My sweet K4er,
You're a few weeks into being a big, bad K4er and the verdict is two grubby thumbs up. Initially you were crushed to find out that none of your K3 buddies were in your K4 class but I assured you there would be plenty of boys in your new class for you to be friends with. You seemed a little unsure but you were still excited to meet your teacher and check out your room the day before school started. Once you saw the oodles and oodles of Legos and magnetic blocks and the smattering of other K4 boys, all was right in your world. We spent about an hour checking everything out, meaning that you and the other boys had an impromptu Lego light sabre battle while Natalie played in the dress-up area. On our way to the car, we stopped by to see your K3 teachers so you could give them both a gigantic hug. They're both ridiculously precious and seemed genuinely excited to see you. And they both oohed and ahhed over how big you'd gotten over the summer. Have you? Did I miss that? I swear you'll probably be 6'3" and I'll still be all, "Oh, are you not a size 2T anymore?"

You wanted me to walk you into class for the first week but after that, you insisted on you walking in yourself. The K4 teachers gently suggested to the parents that eventually (eventually! Not on week 2, punk.) they'd like for all the K4 kiddos to walk into class by themselves, to begin to foster some independence. I nonchalantly mentioned this to you late the first week and you were all "Oh, okay. But definitely not now. I like walking in with you, Momma." Boy, did your tune sure change just 72 hours later. I pulled to the curb, opened up your door, you grabbed your bag, kissed me, kissed Nat, and ran inside. I may or may not have cried a little.

You have becoming fully obsessed with Legos recently. Like, you've liked them for years. You've been obsessed with Duplos for years but Legos mostly annoyed you because they require dexterity that is typically outside the ability of a three- or four-year-old. But a switch got flipped and now all you want to do is play with Legos. You make no fewer than 10 random creations every day. You even wake up early to play with Legos before you eat breakfast. Sure it sounds adorable. But when bedtime comes around and you're going on not-a-full-nights-sleep-because-you-woke-up-early-to-play-Legos, there's a lot of unnecessary drama and tears.

You are already making birthday lists for your sixth, seventh, and eighth birthdays. I think you're taking the age ranges for big Lego sets a bit too literally. But I'll take that over you having a $500 gift list for your fifth birthday.

Side note, you often pronounce "fifth" as "five-th". It's adorable. You're adorable. Life is adorable with you in it, my sweet love.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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• Clinton calls Trump rallying cry racist, but used same slogan
• Love Lost: 9/11 Spouses Reflect on Life Without Their Partners
• Florida man's vehicle catches fire after charging Galaxy Note 7 explodes
• GM Recalls 4.3 Million Vehicles Worldwide for Software Defect
• U.S. 'Should Be Increasingly Worried' by Kim's Nuke Tests

Month 56 - Recap

My sweet boy,
You are Dothan's newest ninja. Oh wait - am I allowed to say that? Or is the first rule of being a ninja 'Don't Talk About Being a Ninja'?

Let's just assume it's safe to talk about.

I found out that Dothan offered this class for little boys a while ago, and had intended on signing you up right away, but never got around to it (Second Child Syndrome strikes again!). I finally did last month and you couldn't be happier. You wear a Super Cool Ninja Uniform - a black shirt with glare-y ninja eyes on the front and NINJA IN TRAINING written on the back and a black headband with NINJA written across the front. When you're all decked out, you look like a force to be reckoned with. With menacing dimples. And terrifying freckles.

I think you were expecting to do some serious American Ninja Warrior-type stuff in your class, and while you may one day graduate to the salmon ladder and warped wall, all ninja greats have to start at the bottom. And the bottom includes climbing over and jumping off of foam pads, rolling down inclined mats, walking along the balance beam, and doing ninja rolls (to the untrained eye, one might think they were somersaults. But one would be wrong. And one would be quickly chastised and loudly corrected and shown the error of her ways).

After those obstacles, you and your class head to the giant pit of foam blocks. I'm not gonna lie, it looks really fun. I kind of wish you little ninjas would leave so I could play in it. There's a lot of jumping, flailing, climbing, throwing, and falling. And then your teacher brings over the big rope so you guys can practice swinging on the rope and landing in the pit. Or, if you're four and your names rhymes with Barley, holding on to the rope with one hand, running toward the pit, throwing the rope out your hand, and belly flopping into the foam pit. Same difference, really.

After each class, you're as drenched as if you had just taken a shower with your ninja clothes on. The Sweaty Ninja has a nice ring to it.

A few weeks ago, Daddy put you to bed and you gave him a message for me. "Daddy, will you ask Mommy that I love her?" Will you ask Mommy that I love her?!! Ack. Your cuteness level is the best.

You have been on a serious Lego kick this month. You've already announced that you'd only like Star Wars Legos and superhero Legos for your birthday and Christmas. I asked you if that meant you were outgrowing your Duplos and you quickly reassured me that "No way! I'll probably have these Duplos when I'm an adult, especially because I want to be a Stay at Home Guy when I grow up." (You've got it in your mind that your dream job is to be a Stay at Home Guy. You can't pinpoint exactly what this job entails other than staying at home playing with toys. Solid plan from a four-year-old ...)

The Sweaty Stay at Home Ninja Guy has an even cooler ring to it. Not that you ever heard me talk about you being a ninja.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for July 9, 2016:

• Arsenal of weapons found in home of Dallas shooter who wanted to 'kill whites'
• Robot Bomb Apparently Used for First Time by Police in Dallas
• House GOP calls grow for FBI perjury probe into Clinton statements
• Players in hunt for Pokemon Go monsters feel real-world pain
• US Zika Infections During Pregnancy Climbs to 320, CDC Says
• Calvin Johnson's Retirement Reveals Pain Impossible to Ignore for NFL Players

Month 55 - Recap

My sweet boy,
I completely forgot to recap your end-of-the-year preschool program last month, my bad. I did, however, do a month's worth of your feeding, clothing, and providing for your every need. So there's that.

You came home from preschool a few month's ago and told me you had a speaking part in your end-of-the-year program. Outwardly, I was all "That's AWESOME, buddy! How exciting!" Inwardly, I was all "Do what? You're gonna do whaaaaaaa? Why did you agreeeeeee to this! Public speaking is scaaaaaaary!" (You'd think after a year of being in Toastmasters [even if it was about eight years ago], I wouldn't still be scared of public speaking. Yeah, well ...)

Your part was Ephesians 4:32 - "Be kind and loving to each other." You would periodically practice your verse with me at home, but most of the time you whined "I don't LIKE to pwactice at home! I don't NEED to pwactice at home! I do enough pwacticing at SCHOOL!" I didn't push you, but it was a relief to hear you say the verse to me every once in a while, just to reassure me that you did, in fact, know it and that the likelihood of you standing at the microphone going "I like grilled cheese sandwiches!" was reduced a bit.

We ended up snagging front-row seats to your program, so we had a prime spot to check out your public speaking debut. As soon as your class walked into the sanctuary, I could feel the tears start to well up. Gracious, I was a mess. Thankfully there was a smattering of adorable songs to cheer me up. And then it was your turn. You walked to the mic, looked out into the crowd (of about 50-60 people), smiled your wonderfully be-dimpled smile, said your verse loudly and clearly, then sat back down. Everyone clapped and I sobbed. You can't take me anywhere. This will probably just be the status quo whenever you do things in life. You do something, I cry. It'll be our little thing.

You've become interested, nay obsessed, with finding words that start with CH. Every time you see something that starts with CH - whether it's on a food package, the credits on a movie, or any word in any book - your face lights up and you screech "C-H, Mommy! Just like the C-H in the beginning of my name!" And how convenient that two of my favorite things happen to start with CH. Cheese and Charlie. In no particular order.

I've started a new bedtime routine with you and Natalie. I read about it online, loved it, totally stole the idea. After I tuck you in, I ask you a series of questions.

Me: Do I love you because you have cute dimples?
You: Nope ... but I do have cute dimples.
Me: Do I love you because you like to play with Natalie?
You: Nope ... but I do like to play with Natalie.
Me: Do I love you because you like superheroes?
You: Nope ... but I do like supuh-hewoes.
Me: Do I love you because you're a rascal?
You: Nope ... but I am a wascal!
Me: Why do I love you?
You: Because I'm yours!

The whole point of this little game is for me to point out unique qualities about you but to make sure you know those qualities are not the reason why I love you. Those qualities are wonderful but they're neither the source nor the reason for my love. That if those qualities somehow disappeared tomorrow, I would still love you simply because you're mine.

So while I love your dimples, I treasure the times that you and Natalie play together, I love that you think you're Batman and Captain America, and I love that you're a total rascal, those are not the reasons I love you. If you were a dimple-less kid who didn't enjoy playing with his sister, didn't like superheroes, and wasn't a rascal, I'd still love you. I love you simply because you're mine.

God loves you (and me - and everyone, for that matter) because you're His. God doesn't love you because you go to church or pray or follow the Golden Rule. God loves you simply because you're His child. His love isn't attached to what you do or don't do, where you go or don't go, what you say or don't say. You don't have to do anything, be anything, have anything for God to love you. God loves you simply because you're His child. And I pray this little bedtime game solidifies this truth in the deepest part of your precious, rascally heart.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for June 9, 2016:

• Blue Angels honor Fallen Marine Captain Kuss with Flyover
• Hillary Clinton Is First Woman To Secure Democratic Nomination
• How Trump is Fighting Both Hillary and His Own Party
• Maria Sharapova suspended for 2 years for doping
• Tel Aviv Shooting Leaves 4 Dead, Deemed Terror Attack
• Zika Virus Forces Tough Choices on Couples Seeking Fertility Treatment

Month 54 - Recap

My sweet boy,
We took you and Natalie to your first concert (well, it was your first, Natalie's second) concert this month. Zealand Worship, Citizen Way, and MercyMe put on an amazing show. I was curious as to how you two would handle everything because it was quite an experience - the civic center was incredibly loud, really crowded, and dark (except for the stage lights, of course). We found our seats and quickly realized that the empty section behind us would be much more comfortable for two kids to jump around and sing, so we hopped the railing (Team Smith = rebels) and spread out. You switched between singing and telling (yelling) me "Momma! I know this song!!" to flying your Batman toy around.

The only problem I had with the concert was the starting time. 7pm. That's reeeeeally close to your bedtime. (Before the time change, that WAS your bedtime. Now, I have a hard time putting you to bed when it's still bright outside so we've pushed your bedtime back a bit). After you sang a few songs, you told me you wanted to go home and go to bed. I checked my phone. It was 7:45. Before MercyMe even got on stage. You seemed supremely bummed when I told you we had a long time before we'd be going home. You perked up during the intermission and we walked around the lobby for a bit.

When we sat back down and MercyMe took the stage, your eyes lit up and your lid was effectively flipped. The guys you've listened to on the radio and watched on YouTube countless times were now 50 yards away. You danced and jumped around and sang and laughed ... until you hit the wall. It was so way past your bedtime, I don't think you had been up that late since you had started sleeping through the night 3.5+ years ago. After singing a few songs, Bart Millard (the lead singer for MercyMe) spoke a bit about the wonderful thing that is God's grace. As he paused between thoughts, you let out a gigantic, dramatically loud, over-the-top yawn. It was both mortifying and hilarious. And apropos, given the subject of what Bart Millard was talking about. You and Natalie fell asleep within minutes of each other and missed the last 30 minutes of MercyMe's set. I imagine the dreams you dreamed had an amazing soundtrack.

Speaking of God, I'm pretty sure the rapture is a'comin' because you ate pork chops. That I cooked. This is incredible on several fronts. First, pork chops and hard boiled eggs always seem to best me in the kitchen, though I think I've finally found a pork chop recipe where the end result isn't like chewing on a racquetball. Hard boiled eggs however ... those wily beasts ... Second, you give 90% of my dinners either a thumbs-down or a side-thumb. The only dinners I cook that are worthy of the coveted thumbs-up are cheese pizza, grilled cheese, chicken drumsticks, and breakfast for dinner. To summarize, you never eat pork chops, especially MY pork chops. But you did a few weeks ago. AND you asked for seconds. If that wasn't evidence enough for an imminent rapture, you ate scrambled eggs. This is only incredible on one front, being that you're a Picky McPickyPants who refuses to try yummy food on the regular. Because my scrambled eggs? Oh buddy. MY scrambled eggs are the bomb. MY scrambled eggs are the best. This is common knowledge within Team Smith but you've finally decided to jump on board. You gobbled up the eggs on your plate, asked for seconds, then pouted when I told you that thirds would have to wait because I'd have to make another batch.

You had your first bout with strep throat earlier this month. You were a pitiful mess for about two days (and you fell asleep on me for the first time in years - momma heart = puddle) and then you recovered like a champ. You drank your disgusting medicine, you ate countless popsicles, you took multiple naps, and you watched a billion shows on Netflix. Other than the medicine part, it sounds like my perfect weekend.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy and Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for May 9, 2016:

• Prince Harry, President Bush Hope to Change Perceptions of ‘Invisible Injuries’
• Why Trump's Flip-Flop on Taxes is So Astonishing
• Ozzy Osbourne and Sharon Osbourne Split
• Boaty McBoatface Rejected as Name for Research Ship
• 7 Tips to Travel to the Rio Olympics on a Budget

Month 53 - Recap

My sweet love,
I bought you a pair of reversible shorts (orange on one side, blue on the other). They're a little too big on you so they look kind of funny, but simply because they're reversible, they've become the Most Awesome Shorts on the Planet to you. Except you keep forgetting the word 'reversible' (which you pronounce as 'we-vuh-sible') so you call them your 'convertible' shorts. Or, 'convuh-tible shohts'. Gah, I love your Ws-as-Rs.

Your sister got to pull Older Sibling ranks and go to a Parent's Night Out at the gym where she takes gymnastics. It's a four-hour block of time where kids eat pizza and play on all the gymnastic equipment. In other words: it's awesome. It's obviously meant for parents to get a date night but for those parents (ie: us) with kiddos (ie: you) younger than five (since ya gotta be at least the wise old age of five to participate in PNO), it meant that we had a Daddy-Mommy-Charlie date where you called the shots for the entire night. And you, my boy, are a kid who's easy to please.

We started the evening dining at the upscale local bistro called Cici's Pizza Buffet. We had to get those reservations weeks in advance. You dined on the chef's special of cheesy bread, cheese pizza, and cinnamon rolls. This meal paired nicely with some freshly squeezed Minute Maid lemonade.

After Cici's, you decided you wanted to look at toys at Toys (backward)R Us. We spent over an hour checking out the train table, the foam swords, and the $400 ride-on cars (you picked out a sweet orange Jeep for me, a black convertible for Daddy, a pink VW bug for Natalie, and a blue Hummer for you). You and Daddy had a sword fight in the middle of the store and we ended up buying two swords (just so we could leave before we got kicked out).

We ended the night by coming home and watching Super Hero Squad on Netflix. You held your sword tightly as you cheered along Spiderman, Iron Man, the Hulk (you still call him the Honk!!) and all the rest of the Squadies.

You talked more in those four hours than I think you've talked in the past four months. It's like you live with someone who has the habit of talking for you and hardly lets you get in a word in edgewise and you've just been waiting for your chance to say something. Oh wait ....

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for April 9, 2016:

• Price of Mailing a Letter Dropping to 47 Cents Starting This Weekend
• Mohamed Abrini Confessed to Being 'Man in the Hat' from Brussels Airport Attack, Officials
• Suit Challenging Cruz Eligibility Reaches Supreme Court
• Teacher Volunteers to Donate Her Kidney to First Grade Student
• 'American Idol' Crowns 15th and Final Winner as Series Comes to an End

Month 51 - Recap

My sweet boy,
Just like your sister, I put you on a probiotic to help with your eczema (though yours isn't nearly as bad as hers is right now). I was expecting more drama from your sister at the thought of having to swallow a pill for the first time (she surprised me with a very low level of drama). I was expecting zero drama from you but also zero success (cuz you're four. I mean, are four-year-olds supposed to be able to swallow pills?). I was correct on the lack of drama but totally surprised at your ability to a swallow pill as long as it's safely tucked into a cup of applesauce. You only had one day where you went through almost the entire cup before you were able to swallow the pill, but still. You did it! Color me impressed.

Fun fact - you still pronounce Rs as Ws, but when you say "I'm sorry", it's not a straight "I'm sowwy". Instead you have Canadian accent. It's really cute, eh?

You have a go-to "I'm frustrated" phrase and it's adorable. Whenever Natalie is driving you bananas (it happens on the regular) or your Duplo creation falls over (it also happens on the regular - you're not a fan of creating sturdy bases) or life in general is just hard (pity party, table for one), you roll your eyes and flop on the couch and wail, "Oh for cwying out for Pete's sake!" I have a hard time being sympathetic while swallowing my belly laughs.

You still love everything about preschool. But on Tuesdays and Thursdays (AKA your non-preschool days) you have 0.0% interest in doing anything school related. In my mind, I had imagined that you'd like to do school stuff with us at table on the days you're home with us. I couldn't be more wrong, unless by "like to do school stuff" means "like to pretend to be Iron Man while yelling out random numbers while Natalie does her math". The differences between four-year-old Natalie and four-year-Charlie are too many to count so I keep having to remind myself that just because your sister was (is) a giant overachieving nerd, you don't have to be (yet) (or ever). You are uniquely you and to be honest, it does your sister some good to have you lighten her up. So keep it up, for cwying out for Pete's sake.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for February 9, 2016:

• Trump Gives Victory Speech Following Projected New Hampshire Win
• Alabama Health Agency Confirms First Zika Case in State
• Clinton's Advantage Hits a Campaign Low; She Lags on Trust While Leading on Issues (POLL)
• UAE Picks Woman to Be First "Happiness" Minister
• Music publisher doesn't own 'Happy Birthday,' has to pay back $14 million

Month 50 - Recap

50 months old. That makes me giggle. And it makes me think about the funny parents who refer to their children's ages in months-form even after the child is older than two. "Oh my son? Yes, he's 31 months old. And my daughter is 44 months old. I also have a pair of twins who are 127 months old."

Christmas has come and gone and you are now the proud owner of a Nerf gun and approximately 7,000 spare darts/bullets. The joy that this toy brings you is only rivaled by the joy brought by your bow and arrow. Nothing in our house is safe ... except me. Because "No Hitting Mommy" became The Rule of the Utmost Importance the moment you opened the package. You spend much of your time indoors protecting Natalie and me from the droves of bad guys who seem to hide in our house.

I hung up some paper lanterns to decorate for Natalie's birthday and it took you less than a second to realize they make excellent targets for your beloved Nerf gun. While we were eating lunch in the kitchen, you scooted away to the living room. The next thing I hear is you belly-laughing as you launched a full-scale attack on the lanterns. Natalie quickly put down her hot dog and joined the assault. These poor lanterns didn't stand a chance. And Daddy may or may not have modified one of the Nerf darts with a thumbtack and shot at the party balloons. It may or may not have been a brilliant idea.

You came up to the me the other day looking really distressed. I asked you what was wrong and, hand to heaven, this is what you said:

You: I weally [really] need to find a wife.
Me: Um, like, now? This year? This month? This week? In 15 minutes?
You: *dramatic sigh* I don't know. I'm just worried I won't find a wife. And then I won't be able to have kids. And then I won't be able to be a daddy.
Me: Trust me, kiddo. You'll find a wife.
Me: *to myself* Cuz with those dimples?! I'm going to probably have to beat some girls off with a stick. Not that I'm biased or anything.
You: But what if I don't?
Me: Well, it's okay to not be married. But I have a feeling you will be. And plus, I'm already praying for your wife.
You: You're WHAT?
Me: Yep. Already praying for her!
You: That's funny.
You: *not two seconds later* Hey Natalie! Let's go shoot the lanterns again!!!
Natalie: YES!!!

Dear Future-Daughter-in-Law-of-Mine,  

I certainly hope you can find joy in the silly things in life, like shooting paper party decorations with foam bullets. But I assume you will. Because I assume that'll be one of the first things that brings you and my sweet be-dimpled boy together.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for January 9, 2016:

• New Iowa Poll Shows Ted Cruz and Donald Trump in Tight Battle
• 'El Chapo' in Solitary Confinement as Lawyers Fight His Extradition to US
• Powerball Jackpot Is Now $1.4 Billion
• Ringling Circus Elephants to Retire in May
• Musician David Bowie Dead at Age 69
• MADD Petition Demands 'Affluenza' Teen Be Moved to Adult Court

Month 49 - Recap

My sweet boy,
Well, your first month as a four-year-old is much better than your first month as a three-year-old. You've been able to keep the whining to a minimum (read: only 49% of the day) so life has been pretty swell. You are still thoroughly obsessed with your bow and arrow (who am I kidding? We are all obsessed with it. It's the best.) and you can't get enough of that dang fart gun. You've perfected the art of when to use it, so secretly I'm high-fiving your comic timing. If Natalie is fussing at you or bossing you around, you'll simply hold up the gun to her face and fire away. Nothing puts a damper on bossiness like 20 seconds of nonstop flatulence noises. You've also come up to me with your hands behind your back, wearing your impossible-to-resist smile, and say "Mommy! I have a surprise for you!!!" And while I sometimes get dandelions from the front yard (heart = melted), most of the time you bring the gun around from behind your back and let 'er rip. It's so charming.

You're in full-on We Must Decorate All The Solid Surfaces in Our House for Christmas mode. You and your sister are like two peas in a pod. Whenever we go to the store, you two will point out all the things I HAVE to buy to decorate for Christmas. If it were up to you two, our front lawn would be covered with blow up a Rudolph, Santa in an outhouse (real cute, Walmart), and Olaf. And inside, our tree would be 12-ft tall and the floor would have to be reinforced after taking into account the weight of the millions of ornaments you two want to put on it. You love all the Christmas songs and the Christmas shows on TV. You have, however, noticed that the weather is anything but Christmas-like. It's in the 70s this week. Yes it's gorgeous, yes the humidity is low, yes if this were as hot as it EVER got, I'd be a happy camper. But it's DECEMBER. Get with the program, weather.

Speaking of Christmas, you like to investigate all the presents under the tree to see if you can figure out what they are. You've already figured out a Lego set (but I told you that you were wrong). You're really confused by the underwear (oh yes, I went there. I wrapped a pack of underwear. [It's part of the Wear for your Want, Need, Wear, Read presents]) "What IS this? Is it a squishy book? Is it a weird stuffed animal??"

You know which package is your Christmas jammies - you're really excited about them. As well you should be. They're the cutest jammies EVER. I bought you and Natalie matching (well, matching-ish - yours are blue, hers are pink) jammies. They have abominable snowmen all over them and the shirt has a big one that says "Yeti for bed!" Not very Christmassy, per se, but still, totally adorable. You'll probably realize when you're older that some things you do for your children are solely for your children. And some things you do for your children are actually not for your children at all. They're purely for you and your wife's amusement.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for December 9, 2015:

• SoCal terrorists likely forged bond in online jihadist forums
• Accused Colo. Planned Parenthood shooter shouts in court 'I'm guilty'
• Girl Who Lost Family in Fire Only Wants Christmas Cards as Presents
• Cop's Wife Caught on Video Stealing Packages From Neighbor's Porch
• 'Star Wars: The Force Awakens': How Harrison Ford Mentored the New Cast Members
• Beneath the Mona Lisa Lies a Second Portrait, Scientist Claims

Month 48 - Recap

My dearest Bear,
You're FOUR! Yay!

In keeping with being in a gigantic nerd family (you're welcome, by the way. Or is it, I'm sorry? Eh, either way.), you've become fascinated by Rube Goldberg videos on YouTube. You and Natalie could spend hours watching them all. During Quiet Time the other day, you made one of your own. You (or Natalie) tied one end of your yo-yo string onto the handle of one of your dresser drawers. You tied the other end of the string to the handle of your closet door. When you closed your closet, your drawer slid open. The look on your face was priceless. Also, you pronounce Rube Goldberg like "Rude Goldbird". So now I'm picturing a bunch of YouTube videos of a gold-colored bird making unkind gestures at me with his wing and calling me names.

It's become glaringly obvious to me over the past few months that we have a problem. Well, you have a problem ... and that is that you don't like hanging out in your jammies. You want to get dressed as soon as you wake up. This just baffles my jammie-loving self to no end. How can you NOT like jammies? They're God's gift to the clothing industry. It's as if He said "To balance out this world that's full of buttons, snaps, clasps, and zippers, I will also gift to you a wonderful assortment of elastic waistbanded cottony goodness." Now sometimes the clothes you pick are the identical twin to jammies (exercise shorts and t-shirt) but sometimes you actively seek out a plethora of buttons and zippers as opposed to staying in your elasticky dinosaur-clad cotton delights. Now I totally appreciate this on the days we have to be out of the house before noon. I rarely have to tell you to get dressed. But on the wonderfully rainy days where we have exactly zero plans outside of the house, Natalie and I could hang out in jammies all the livelong day. Because why wouldn't you? But for some reason, the idea does not appeal to you. And I am flabbergasted.

We had your birthday party yesterday. This was the first year we had a 'real' birthday party for you, which means, of course, because of who I am, I was a mess of panicky nerves because entertaining and party-throwing are so far out of my comfort zone. But God is gracious and you are sweet - you loved my feeble attempt at decorating, you were so appreciative of the non-Pinterest-worthy racecar cake that I made, and you were tickled by the picture collage I put together ("Look at me, Momma! I was such a cute baby!"). You finally got your heart's desire - a bow and arrow. After one shot, Daddy and I agreed that we have to go back to the store and buy three more. Cuz Team Smith is gonna throw down with a Bow and Arrow competition. You also got a dump truck (that Natalie picked out herself), a train (a Hogwarts Express ... BOOM), a Lego Batman shirt (cuz, duh), and a bike (brand new from a consignment sale!). All of those presents were great, no doubt. But the one you love the most? The one you played with for hours, carried around the entire afternoon and put on your bedside table at night so it'll be close to you? The one that Uncle Mike bought you because he knew it'd drive me bananas? A Minion fart gun. Ah yes, you are now the proud owner of a digital Whoopie cushion. Uncle Mike and Aunt KK even included extra batteries! In case the original ones run out! We have extra! So awesome! *eyeroll*

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for November 9, 2015:

• At least 1 reported dead, 2 wounded in subway shooting near NYC's Penn Station
• University of Missouri faculty call for class walkout amid protests, football team boycott
• Obama, Netanyahu Look to Mend Fractured Relationship
• Could Drone Delivery Really Take Off? Experts Weigh In
• Georgia Cop Helps Fallen Runner Finish Half-Marathon

Month 47 - Recap

My sweet boy,
You, sir, are continuing to take the role as Resident Smith Family Picky Eater very seriously. You're now to the point where you ask me what we're having for dinner ... while you're eating breakfast. There are several possibilities why you ask this question.

1. You're naturally curious.
2. You want to spend all day in anticipation of the culinary magic I'll be serving.
3. You need to make sure you eat all your lunch and prepare for a dessert-less evening because I'm serving neither grilled cheese nor cheese pizza.

I'll give you zero guesses as to which one is correct.

You even go so far as to tell me "Well, Mommy, I've decided that I don't like ice cweam today. So it's no big deal if I don't get any dee-zuht." And miraculously, you suddenly start liking ice cream again when I serve pizza for dinner.

You're starting to draw people. And in three-year-old fashion, you specialize in the toothpicks-sticking-out-of-an-egg approach. It's a good thing my self-worth isn't wrapped up in how you draw me. Cuz ouch, man.

You like to talk about what you want to be when you grow up. First it was a superhero (like most little boys, I imagine). But Natalie the Realist burst your bubble and informed you that superheroes aren't real. You were seriously bummed but she redeemed herself by listing all the occupations that are like superheroes. None of those really appealed to you (probably because those occupations don't include a cape, a rad car, and/or the ability to fly). So now you've decided that you want to be the lead singer of the Newsboys. I hope Michael Tait is ready for a run for his money in 20-something years.

You always want me to put you to bed and Natalie always wants Daddy. And recently, the four of us have started racing to your respective bedrooms at night. It's a guaranteed way to get you two to temporarily forget that you're going to bed and instead focus on winning. At whatever cost. Oh yes, we sometimes play dirty. Sometimes Daddy tries to block the entrance to your bedroom. Or I'll sit (gently) on Natalie on the couch to give you a head start to your room. Or I'll scoop you up immediately after our family prayer and run to your bedroom before Daddy and Natalie know what hit them.

But recently, you fall apart if Daddy and Natalie get to her room before you and I get to your room. You burst into tears and start yelling how it's not fair that we lost. So now The Great Bedroom Race is on hiatus until we're able to teach you the right way to lose. Losing is inevitable but there are ways to lose that don't involve such high decibels. Hopefully you'll figure this out soon so that we can get back to playing. Because there's no better way to end my day then by sitting on your sister to win a game.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for October 9, 2015:

• Next man up? House GOP pushes reluctant Ryan to seek speaker's chair
• One dead, three hurt in shooting at Northern Arizona University
• 'We are so relieved': Missing king cobra snake found under dryer near Orlando
• Nobel Peace Prize awarded to Tunisian democracy group
• Think Your Commute Is Bad? Try 50 Lanes of Beijing Traffic
• GM Fined $900M Over Faulty Ignition Switches

Month 46 - Recap

Why hello there, you preschooler, you.
You started K3 preschool last month. We met your teacher a few days before you started, and I immediately liked her. She clearly has a heart for three-year-olds, and God bless her for it. You loved checking out your new classroom, but you made sure I didn't wander too far from you. You wanted me to sit beside you (in chairs meant for a three-year-old ... not a six-foot-tall thirty-four-year-old) while you explored the buckets of trains, cars, dinosaurs, and magnetic blocks. There was a neat dress-up area, a sweet tool bench, and lots of books. It was pretty much everything you love in the world.

You were shy when we met your teacher and you clung to my leg like a koala bear. I warned her that you might have a hard time leaving my leg on the first day. She assured me that there would be extra volunteers on hand to pry nervous kiddos of their mommas' legs. I did a mental whew as we left the classroom. You've had some fairly rough weeks being dropped off at Sunday School recently, so I was prepared for a Super Sobfest of Epic Proportions at your first preschool drop-off. Just when I think I have you (or your sister) figured, you go and throw me a curve ball. This particular curve ball was you walking up to your teacher on the first day, giving her a big hug, and waving to me as you walked into your classroom. I was floored. And I may or may not have been a little teary watching you put away your bag then sit down at the table to work on a puzzle. You looked so comfortable, so NOT nervous, so grown.

I'm not much of a baby person. I mean, I like babies - I like their inherent cuteness and smushiness. But when you were a baby, I didn't really mourn each passing stage as you learned new things because each stage has been more fun than the previous. I don't want to keep you a baby forever (even though you were a delightful baby); I love that you're growing up. And watching you in your new preschool made me feel so happy.

You've handled drop-off like a champ every day. You give me a kiss, give your teacher a hug, then run into class. And every day when I pick you up, you're drenched in sweat and have a big smile on your face. It can't get much better than that.

Speaking of kisses, you've decided your preferred method of kissing is with a fish face. You have an impressive fish face and an even more impressive kiss noise. Your Fish Kisses are indeed a treat for the eyes and the ears.

You and Daddy like to wrestle. You two punch each other (you, as hard as you can; Daddy, not so much), blow raspberries in each other's face, and make disgusting boy noises. It baffles me how this could ever be enjoyable, but you two have the best time. Daddy and I have (hopefully) made it clear that you're only allowed to play like that with him. In other words, Momma don't play that. I'm happy to be the booboo-kisser, the lunch-fixer, and the tickle-giver. But getting spit at in my face by a be-dimpled boy is infinitely far down on my list of Things That Sound Fun.

Getting one of your Fish Kisses is at the top.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for September 9, 2015:

• Clinton offers first apology for private email server
• Refugees Left Behind: Millions of Syrians Flee, Few Reach Europe
• Sofia Vergara, Kaley Cuoco tied for highest paid TV actress
• Queen Elizabeth II becomes longest-reigning monarch in Britain's history
• Kentucky clerk battle fuels debate over religious accommodation laws