It was the sledding birthday that Sully had looked forward to for weeks, but then Mother Nature decided to change plans a bit and melt all our snow (which never happens in December!), so it turned into more of a winter party with no sledding. But! It was still great and I don't think he missed the sledding portion one bit, because he had all his little friends and cake and what else can you ask for, really, when you are 4?
I have kept digital baby books for the boys for each year of their lives, and then print them off each birthday with a whole year of our pictures, memories, and letters to them on each of their month "birthdays". I thought I would include Sullivan's letter from his birthday here. I can't believe the little boy who made me a mama is four years old.
December 30, 2014
Dear Sullivan,
Today you turn 4 years old. Writing that down doesn't even seem real. It feels like there's someone hiding behind a corner that's going to jump out at me and yell "just kidding!". But, here we are. Four whole years old. And man I can already tell four is going to be amazing. It is honestly like a switch was turned on your birthday and you became this new boy.
One who listens and who is patient. One who can be reasoned with and who talks like a 90 year old man. You just seemed to become so much more mature over the holidays. We have real conversations now. Like real, in-depth discussions about things like planets, and death, and love, and loss, and how everything in the solar system works. About marriage and friendship and birth. About life. And when, as a new mom, you have a tiny newborn in your arms, and you are rocking them to sleep in the deep, dark hours of the night in a quiet household, you dream, in your delirious state, of moments like these. How it seems impossible yet so exciting that one day this tiny, pink-faced newborn will look you in the eyes and ask you these deep life questions that take your breath away with pride and fear. Because you stop me in my tracks sometimes, Sullivan. With your questions and observations of the world that make me rethink everything I've ever thought. Like how to explain death. And how you were born. And why your birthparents made an adoption plan for you. Gosh, buddy, please bear with me as we stumble and fumble through life's explanations.
I promise you that we're doing our best to share with you a fair, equal, liberal view of the world. But we are also leaving just enough holes and mysteries for you to forge your own path with your own answers and thoughts. Because if there's one thing I've learned as a parent, it's that you will not be me. You will not make decisions that I would make in every situation. You will not be a carbon copy of me, though you may pick up some of my quirks and bad habits and potty mouth. No. You are, and will always be, YOU. And seeing you grow into this magnifcent person who is genuinely kind to strangers and has never met an enemey; well, quite honestly, I wish I was more like you.
You love telling us all the things that a four year old can do. Just in case you forget by the time you read this, it's pretty much everything. So we're trying to reel you in just a bit so that you're not sneaking off with the car in the middle of the night. But yes, four comes with a lot more responsibility and higher expectations, of which so far you are exceeding beyond all we imagined. The first year you barely get through, sleep-deprieved and love-drunk, then there's the "terrible twos" (which weren't even that terrible), then there's the "terrible threes" which were maybe a little bit terrible for a few months, and now we've hit four. Which has no forbodoing name because I think it's just going to be awesome. With maybe a little bit of drama in there.
But what is life without drama? I can't wait to see what four unfolds for you, Sul. Happy birthday, our sweet boy.
