So my baby turned four this week. Four! I did NOT give her permission to do that. Nor any of my other kids when their birthdays came along. I even threatened to superglue bricks to their heads to keep them from growing. But sadly, it won't work. Nothing will. The seconds keep ticking by. The minutes. Hours. Days. Years.
But despite the fact that it's happening too fast for me, I love every second of watching them grow--well, most seconds. Okay, so maybe a little less than that. The seconds when they're not fighting, teasing, whining, etc.
My ten-year-old is developing such a fun sense of humor. He now teases me, and I love it. Like the other day when we were working on his Lego set he'd gotten from Santa. Our conversation went something like this:
"This set is awesome," my son said.
"Yeah, we figured you'd like it."
He shot me a look. "You mean Santa figured I'd like it, right?"
Oops. "Well, yeah. I mean, we told him you'd like it," I backpedaled.
"Santa's not real, is he, Mom?"
Crap. "Yes he is."
He shook his head. "You're a terrible liar."
My eight-year-old is the definition of sweet. I pray she never changes. My six-year-old is going through a phase right now. He likes to boss. Tease. Always be right. (This is starting to sound like I'm talking about me). But he still gives the BEST hugs ever. And my NOW four-year-old is a princess through and through. What will I do when she stops insisting on wearing skirts every day and changing the flowers clips in her hair hourly? I will be sad. Very sad.
But I will also be happy. Because I'm sure there will be something new to love about them.