On turning four and a half

Dear Wrigley,

Your favorite things to do are hatching out of an egg, going to the south pole, buying toys from me, then selling them back, making books and making and wearing mud.

Your actually not much interested in toys, but you do always like a good toy car. We recently went to the toy store and you were able to pick out anything you wanted. You wanted MORE polished rocks. You have dozens of polished rocks. We got more polished rocks, some stickers, and this slippery gel thing. I convinced you to get a new Playmobile horse and wagon, but we could have been out of there with spending only $7.

Your sharing is hit or miss. You don't want anyone one to touch your stuff, but other times you like to give away toys. And not even just toys you don't care for anymore. Today you gave a brand new squishy-stick-on-the-wall bumblebee to our neighbor Abe.

You're learning how to do the monkey bars with a charming mix of determination and helplessness. You are an expert in the leaping hug. Let's learn to give a little warning, please. You have yet to meet a book you don't like, but poetry isn't you r favorite. We go to two storytimes a week, and we couldn't possibly skip one. If only I'd tell it that often, you'd like to hear the story of "How Marble got Lost" six times a day. You can remember things that happened way back. It is stunning.

You are a resiliant, exuberant, thoughtful, observant, methodical, happy kid, who Daddy and I are unbelievably lucky to have in our lives. You have taught me how to accept help, have fun without thinking too hard, receive sympthy, hatch out of an egg, do an arabesque, and finally learn that a hug really does help when I'm feeling grumpy.

Four and a half years into being your Mom, I can only wish for you more of the same. More books, more ice cream, more painted toes, and especially more leaping hugs.