Needless to say... he's still four. I had this incredibly brilliant plan: if I continued to treat him as a three year old, referred to him as a three year old and begged him relentlessly to remain a three year old it stands to reason that he would be... a three year old.
There's logic behind this one, stay with me.
People always say your as old as you feel, so if I forced him to feel 3 that's just what he would be... that's not me talking, that's science people.
But aside from my ruthless nagging, it seems he grew anyway. Practically in front of my eyes. He uses words like literally, has an opinion about how he intends to do everything from getting dressed to climbing into the car, and any chance he gets he likes to refer to himself as a man.
He is truly 4... 4 going on 14. And I just need to deal with it.
I suppose this one growing is particularly hard on our hearts because he's the aging pioneer. Every new milestone and growth spurt is completely out of our realm of expectation. We don't know what comes next... and then he shows us and we sob quietly behind his back because he was supposed to be our baby forever. With him, everything is new and unexpected and it just makes it all the harder for us to loosen our grip and let him grow. For him, we have to buck up, hold back our fear and watch from the sidelines as he maneuvers through this new year. Our boy, comfortably independent and forever difficult... but loved beyond measure.
