As has become our custom, we celebrated Wyatt's birthday this week with a small family dinner. Perhaps we are all too exhausted from the December festivities to do more, or just not organized enough to put together "a friends party" as Wyatt calls it.  In any case, we ate Wyatt's requested dinner (haystacks a.k.a. taco salad with fritos) followed by cake (the same one I always make) and ice cream and a few birthday presents.  Grandpa Herman, Aunt Becky and Uncle Darren joined us.  The Corvallis grandparents Face-timed with us before bed.

In truth, we also had a friend over for lunch and play date on his birthday, which totally made his day and wore him out.  Byron also came home a couple hours early on his birthday, and the two of them "watched space movies" at Wyatt's request for an hour or so before dinner. It was a pretty awesome day by Wyatt's standards.

I can hardly belive how fast we have gotten to four.  It seems like only moments ago that he started sleeping through the night and rolling over. 

But now that he's four, he has gotten quite interested in how and when he was born and where he came from. For weeks now, we've been talking about how he grew from an egg to an embryo to a fetus to a baby . . . about the day he was born . . . how he peed on dad during his first diaper change (cue the hysterical laughter).  Periodically, he will quiz me about what he was doing during any given time in my life that I mention.  Our exchanges often goes like this:

Me: "I remember my birthday when I turned four years old.  A girl named Julie and I became friends that day.  And I lived in a log cabin with grandma and grandpa, in the state of North Carolina."

Wy:  "Oh.  When you lived in a log cabin was I born yet?  Or was I still just an egg?"

Me:  "You were just an egg back then."

Wy: "Okay.  When you married my father, was I born yet?  Or was I still just an egg?"

Me:  "No you weren't born yet.  You were still an egg."

Wy:  "Oh. When did you decide to grow me?"

All historical occurrences are now measured by whether Wyatt was born yet or whether he was still just an egg.

And how crazy it is that just five years ago, he was, indeed, still just an egg.  How much life and love -- and, well, pretty much everything from my brain chemistry to my outlook on life has changed.  I knew I would enjoy this parent adventure, but I had no idea how much.

Here we are, four years in.  What an interesting person he is.  These days he is "really, really into space stuff" as he puts it.  He's just discovered Legos, which are pretty fabulous.  He counts everything in French.  He's learned to play games like Go Fish and The Scrambled States of America.  He can navigate utube and Apple TV like a pro (unfortunately).  We "sort, sort, sortie, sort, sort" everything thanks to Peg+Cat.  Salad people are all the rage with him (thank you Mollie Katzen).  He can snowshoe, order his own meal at a restaurant, and cut cucumbers with a serrated knife.  He reads.  He sits in a booster seat in the car now.  He can make phone calls and pour his own milk from the carton (definitely not at the same time, however). And if he holds my phone in the car, he takes great pleasure in announcing what businesses we are passing as he tracks us on Google maps. 

Happy fourth birthday, Wy!



Becky said…
And he can read books! Happy Birthday Wy!

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