Benji's Birthday

Dear Benji,

Keeping with typical fashion, I'll write your birthday post months late. Your life is going much too fast for me my sweet one. I keep calling you my baby, but you are most certainly now my toddler. The staff at the doctor's office reminded me of this the other day when I took you for your appointment. They kept asking me if you had been seen elsewhere or had gotten your shots anywhere else. I kept saying "no" and then they said, "Well, it has been quite some time since you have been here". I agreed that I had probably missed his last appointment and then they told me that you actually had not been in since you were six weeks old. I was pretty embarrassed, but it just proved to me once again, that you are still a baby to me.

The staff revealed another shocker at your appointment, you are in the 95% for your height. We had been under the assumption that you were a little thing and always called you our little shrimp. That must have been a result of our own prejudice about you being our baby too.

I had to pick a photo of you as a little baby, to remind myself of how far you've come.

This year has been a fun one with you Benji. You have kept us on our toes for sure. You are such a live wire—always moving, always running, always in motion. So we see lots of leaps, jumps and daily falls too as you explore your world. You fly on your scooter and trike. You love to throw balls and hit balls with your golf club too. You are happiest when you are on the move. You love your naps, but you will gladly miss it any day, if there is an adventure to be had.

Certainly, you are spoiled, but just as certain you are amazingly lovable. We have catered to your needs too much, but it is hard to turn you down because your happiness brings us so much joy. To make sure that you know you can't run everything we started discipling you this year with quick "zips" and time out. Your sisters beg to let you out and hover around you and I find myself counting down the moments until I can set you free too.

Your dad is particularly smitten by you. He loves putting you to bed, watching golf with you and letting your hover around while he works. One day while he was working you were sitting on his lap and interfering with his work. He kept repeating to himself, "It is hard", meaning it is so hard to hold a meddling little boy on one's lap while you are working. You then started repeating back, "I it is hard" when you would work. In your mind "it is hard" means "to do work" and of course we have never corrected this phrase. It has become one of our favorite things you say.

Language development was slow and frustrating for you. You really wanted to get your message across and finally this summer your words just started flying out. You have become so much happier since then and little things that would send you into a tantrum before have completely fizzled. You now fill our days with tender kisses, lots of giggles and a flurry of flight.

I love you sweet one and am so grateful that we decided to have you, number four, our caboose.

Mom