Dearest four-year-old,
Oh how I love thee. Let me count the ways…
I love that you wipe your own butt.
I love that you sleep in your own bed THROUGH THE NIGHT.
I love that you know how to get yourself a snack and how to put your dish in the sink when you’re done.
I love that you laugh at my jokes and you make jokes that are funny.
I love how you talk about your younger siblings like they’re raised by wolves and cannot believe how messy/gross/dirty/loud/ridiculous/hilarious/lovable/misunderstood they are.
I love that I catch you repeating things I’ve said repeatedly to exhaustion to your siblings as you try to teach them.
I love that you’re curious about learning and think it’s fun.
I love that you no longer have tantrums on the floor of Target.
I love that you tell me you love me out of the blue.
I love that you don’t yell, “Mom! Mom! Mom!” at 5:00AM when you wake up.
I love that you get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night 99% of the time.
I love that you can pick out your own clothes regardless of how ridiculous you may look in said outfit.
I love that you can go a day without crying.
I love that you grow braver and more confident about your place in the world every day.
I love that you still like to hold my hand and cuddle with me on the couch.
I love that you apologize after you’ve made a mistake without me having to request an apology.
I love that you ask me about my day.
I love that your vocabulary has grown to a place where you can verbalize your emotions and we can talk out how you’re feeling when the feelings are big.
I love your imagination.
I love listening to your teachers tell me how kind, polite, and on task you are at school.
I love watching you walk into your classroom with confidence even if it means I don’t get a hug goodbye as I watch you go.
I love watching you create a new game with your friends at the playground.
I love that you have grown into a person I enjoy being around because man, your three-year-old self…
I love you.
Mom
