Sunday, March 29, 2020

A Letter to August on his 4th Birthday



Dear August,


You’re four whole years old and I just can’t believe we’re here: me, a mama of two babies that have somehow grown up into little boys without me even realizing it. So much has changed, but so much has also stayed just the same. You are YOU, through and through, and no amount of years will change it. 




Your eyes are always mischievous and laughing and you talk a hundred thousand miles a minute. It’s become a running joke in our family, about how nobody else can really get a word in edgewise. You love to entertain those that you love best and are so incredibly full of life. You’ll do anything to get a reaction, from making funny faces, to making up jokes that make no sense, to putting on a show, to standing on chairs and making “announcements”--half the time something that you haven’t thought though and need a minute to make up in your head once all eyes are on you.


You shine in your preschool classroom, and the feedback that we receive is that everybody adores you. You recognize all of your letters, can write your name, are really good at tracing, can count to 30ish, and are a master at rhyming and beginning sounds. You’re getting less shy at drop off, happy to be reunited with your best buddies, Dommie and Leo. 




You’re a builder, an assembler, and then a ripper-aparter, with LEGOs, Duplos, Tinker Toys—really anything that can be put together to remotely resemble a “blaster”, a “shooter”, or an airplane, ship, or missile. You’re still so good at independent play, making things talk to each other. Your made-up dialogues have us rolling, all the while us trying not to make eye contact or too much sound as not to distract you from whatever made up conversations you’ve got going on.


Batman is still life, and we’re celebrated the THIRD Batman birthday in a row for you in late February to make extra sure that you had your moment to shine before your sister made her appearance. Your Batman shirt that says “four” on it makes you the happiest, as do Batman figures, LEGO mini figures, your yellow rubber boots, your snow pants (even if its way too warm outside for them), and above and beyond all else: anything squishy. 




You love your cousin Brett and your brother Oskar more than anybody, and watching the three boy cousins in the family grow closer and closer together as the age gap closes is just so fun. At home, Oskar is someone you mimic and strive to be just like, from your interests, to your vocabulary, to what you want to play with him. Thus, Nintendo has blown up in this house, you, the Mario Kart master at a mere 4 years old. It’s a treat for you and Oskar to play with your dada before bed, me not knowing who loves it most. Your brother and you love each other fiercely, and this year has brought you closer together than any other. Sure, there’s still a lot of fighting, as brothers do, but you really seem to understand each other better than anybody else and your imaginative play together has totally taken off—both of you in sync with what the other is thinking. 


You’re still my best eater, especially if big brother isn’t around to sway you out of whatever I make. You love meat best of all, which is polar opposite of Oskar and me. You call any dipping sauce hummus, and hearing your request for pancakes and hummus is something only a mother could decipher and understand. 



Sleep is getting more challenging because you’re completely done with naps, but still forced to take them 3x a week at school. Those nights leave us struggling, with a kiddo who wants to talk until 9:30 at night while bouncing off the walls. I’m hoping we find a happy medium—and a more consistent schedule-- this year, because wake ups and bedtimes on school days look totally different from non-school days, and I’m sure it’s not the easiest for you, either.


You started Kindermusik this year, your first extra-curricular activity outside of school that you’re finally getting in the groove of. You’re still hesitant to try anything new, and your shyness overtakes you at anything unfamiliar or at any place where mama is not. I’d love for you to start swimming lessons after your birthday, but so far, the answer from you has been a resounding no. We’ve tried karate twice so far, both times resulting in tears and an August who just wouldn’t participate. So, we’ll see. It’s still such a crazy paradox, knowing how huge your personality is as compared to how reserved you can be around anybody you don’t know well. 



I’ve been anxiously awaiting to watch your transition to a big brother role and have always felt you’d be the perfect middle child. Easy going, happy-go-lucky, flexible, but not to be left behind for a minute. You were interested about the pregnancy, the baby sister, but also pretty nonchalant—like you knew she was coming either way, and we’d meet her when she got here. We had to move you to a new bedroom to make room for her nursery, and you picked up your stuff and moved it without really skipping a beat. And then she came along, and your wonder and awe about her could really just make me cry. You’re gentle, inquisitive, and such a helper when I need you to be. And my favorite thing of all is how you get super close to her and say, “Oh, hi, little miss!”



A few funny things you say because I never want to forget them. Remember = Bamember, Thanks = Sanks, Sure = SHUA! (which we all say now), and you start SO MANY of your sentences with “DID YOU KNOW…?!?!”


August, you’re the happiest boy with the most infectious personality, and don’t tell anyone else, but you’re also my easiest. You’re always up for tagging along, on a walk, to the store, on an adventure, and thus have become such a sweet little side kick of mine any time I leave the house. You’re so lovable, and even when you’re not, it only takes a quick distraction to get you laughing again, a sound so contagious it makes my heart explode.





Happy, happy birthday to my forever baby boy. We love you to Gotham City and beyond. May all your four year old dreams come true.



Love,

Mama

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