4 Years Old

Last week my teeniest boy turned 4, that feels like a big number to me.  Yet he is still so little, still my teeny baby in lots of ways.  I don’t think that will ever change.

But now, when I am watching him play or draw or just be, I see that he truly is 4 now, that 3 year old has slipped away and has been replaced by this animated little guy, full of his own plans and ideas.  He is so alive, so full of life and so clear on how he wants to execute his inner dreaming.  He’s so…what’s the word… bossy?  Well a little, but even that seems charming.

In the space of a few seconds a million ideas and thoughts seem to run across his brain, he is always in motion, his ideas coming thick and fast, his words even faster.  We can’t keep up.

So we just watch him, admiring this person emerging into his own self, each day a step closer to the adult he will one day forge himself into.  For now he is full of delight, charm, softness.  He still welcomes a cuddle and tolerates his Mummy’s kisses of those still soft cheeks.  He still hugs me with delightful fierceness when he finds himself in a moment of despair and woe.  He is the same as he ever was, he is different every day.

I’m so grateful that I have the opportunity to watch him, that I am not missing these transitional days.   I adore seeing him explore his interests, helping him when he needs it, introducing him to new ideas as the days slip pleasantly by.

I know that he is emerging into himself in safety, protected by the walls of our home, by the family that surrounds him every day.  He is finding his confidence in himself among those who love him and I wonder idly what he will make of this life that is unfurling beyond him.

But there is no rush, I am more than happy to linger.  I’ll enjoy the kisses and the hugs and the daily chatter for as long as I can.  These are the days to treasure.