A Complete Baby

Well... You're 4.

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
wa wa wa
Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

My baby's no baby anymore.

This year, you deserved your own space. A little place to call your own. A little house for our little Lil'. (And remind me to tell you how much I love craigslist when you get older!)

Ummmm. Some perspective on the size of the house - not the hiney.

She loves. Not likes. She loves.

I may or may not have gotten a teensy weensy carried away.

Nothing to see here folks. Keep it moving...

It was Candyland...Get it?

Bounce it out kids. Bounce it out.

Loves. Not likes. Loves.

All photo credit and chocolate fountain efforts go to my sistas. Good girls!

My little Lil' turned 4. And now, I'm a complete baby.

How Did We Get Here?

I have a confession to make. When we got married, we didn't have a song. We were too young to have a song. We didn't have one. My sister had a great one but me and Daddy didn't. Truth be told, I don't think either one of us could tell you what we danced to at our wedding. But it shoulda been to this. Mix a little Dolly with a little Kenny = perfect = Islands in the Stream. Happy 11th Daddy. How did we get here?

Your Mama Won

I couldn't stand it anymore. I had enough. The slight flicking when you spoke, the way it hung way lower than all the rest. I gathered up my memories of floss and doors, wet washcloths and salt water and I climbed in the bed with you. You knew it was coming. You didn't go down without a fight. But Mama won. Oh yes she did, your Mama won.

A Problem With Your Age

I don't know about you but I have a real problem with your age. Somehow, when I forgot to look, 7 years sped by. I tell you all the time that I'm going to squnch you up and put you back in my stomach. You think I'm kidding, but guess what? I'm not. If I could do it, I would in a skinny minute.

I crept into your room the last night of your 6th year.

Sweet 6 year old Big.
  

Sweet 6 year old hands.

Sweet 6 year old face.

Daddy and I planned something big for Big this year. We set up little signs from his room to our porch to help him find his way to his birthday present before he had to go to school.

We let him decide what we all would have for dinner. So we had fried chicken, mac and cheese and cake. Lots of cake.

Oh and note to self: Big doesn't like cake anymore.

I heard a nasty rumor that Big thinks he's too big for a "real" party. That's why, he decided to have a sleepover this year. Two of his favorite people in the entire world came over for the night. I closed my eyes, I opened the bags of candy and the cans of Sprite and let them at it.

And when they thought they'd had enough. We let them smash a pinata. And then there was a silly string fight and there was a lot of swimming in the pool and a lot of "bam bam" when they plaid army.

And then.

We let them eat cake.

Ahhhh, more cake.

Towards the end of the night all 3 of them looked like they were in Vegas. All wide-eyed and spinning with delirious ridiculousness.

They were up early. Real, real early. But just like Vegas, who needs sleep anyways? You made it Big. You're finally 7 and I've got a real problem with your age.

Hold It Tight

We really tried to squeeze every drop of life out of this summer that we could. Just 2 days in, we sped down to Edisto. We saw you learn something new and fall in love with that place all over again.

You took whatever we dished out this summer. In the car, out of the car, here, there, home, gone, up, down, go to bed, put it on, take it off, be still, run wild. You took it all. You took it in. You drank it up.

You are a stronger swimmer this summer. Your dives are much straighter. You touched the bottom of the pool a lot more.

Your mind is much sharper and the games you came up with are far more interesting and include complex dynamics and characters. The characters seem to come from somewhere - they have a background. The "Daddy" always seems to sleep late and inevitably turns into the "Puppy". The "Mommy" spends a lot of time making supper but then always leaves the playroom to go with her "Sister" somewhere.

We soaked in every minute of the sun that we could. The heat is a part of the memory. Seeing the sweaty little heads and smelling the grass are just different colors within the masterpiece.

The end brought Arizona. A trip of firsts. A first plane trip for Lil'. A first hike for Big. A first trip to see the West. The beautiful West. Well spent time with Grandma and Grandpa and cousins and aunts and uncles.

It has gone by in a sudden whishhh and gone away much quicker than it came. The summer you were 6 and 3 is all boxed up and put away, but we're gonna remember it. We're gonna hold on to it and hold it tight.

I Come From Crazy

Big thinks I'm crazy. He recently told his Uncle that I'm the craziest girl he knows. Lucky for me, he doesn't get embarrased by it yet. But it's coming. Oh, it's coming. He thinks I'm crazy because I shot him in the face with the sink sprayer. He thinks I'm crazy because I shoot guns and duck hunt. He thinks I'm crazy because I'm a girl who likes to do boy things from time to time and I think he can tell that at one point in time, I had a real good time getting dirty and getting into trouble.

The truth is that crazy, keeps me young. It makes me look for adventure. It reminds me how to be fun. It shows my almost 7 year old son that girls can do anything. It shows my almost 4 year old daughter that she doesn't have to be perfect. It shows the 34 year old me and the 35 year old Daddy that we're not as old as we feel or think we are. We are still young and we are still crazy and that's perfectly ok.

Don't ever forget how to be crazy. Let it be little light inside of you but don't let it take over you. Let it inspire you and create things for you and let it help you remember how to be fun. I come from a long line of crazy and you do too. Embrace it.