brigid kaelin

Four years ago today I had the Wee Boy in a beautiful Birthing Centre in Edinburgh, Scotland, and can I tell you the honest answer to the question? Yes, I absolutely believe it has been four years! I have enjoyed the last two and a half immensely, but wow are those first 18 months tough. I was just writing in my journal about how much I adore Graham, and I decided to share it with the world because, people, he is the best kid.

No, he still doesn't sleep. That has been the thing about him that causes the most stress. If not-sleeping would guarantee that my Newest Boy would be exactly the same as Graham then I would happily never have him sleep through the night. Because Graham is just so good.

Ode to Graham today? Yes. No holds barred, here, either.




I keep most of my parenting triumphs to myself because I feel guilty about them. I have watched friends with similarly-aged children have a year full of "threenager" behavior: tantrums, illogical arguments, huge emotions, mood swings and general hard emotional times. Today I can say that, though this is all completely normal, I have not seen such behavior in Graham. He has thrown a tantrum, but it has never lasted more than 45 seconds. Seriously. It is bizarre, abnormal and completely wonderful.

He's a thousand times more emotionally intelligent than I am -- something I credit more to David's genes than my parenting. Honestly, none of the credit should go to my parenting. I don't do anything or know anything differently than my friends do. I just got crazy lucky with a child who takes deep breaths and talks about his feelings. It blows my mind daily, and I never take it for granted. While I'm in the kitchen throwing a spoon in frustration, Graham will come in and give me a hug and tell me, "I'm so sorry you're feeling sad. Will a snuggle make you feel better?" And I melt, people, I melt. 

People think I solo parent a lot. I'm pretty sure it's Graham doing the parenting.

Anyway ... his year as a 3-year-old has been amazing. He is a master on that scooter. You've seen him racing down the sidewalks in his unicorn helmet, seemingly without a parent (I'm just behind him a few driveways, trying to keep up), but always stopping at long driveways and alleys and streets to wait for me, me never having to remind him.

He goes off the diving boards and swims to the side by himself.

Venonat

He's a surprisingly good little artist. Lately he's taken to drawing Pokemon (or is it Pokemons?) freehand, and they are really good! Even for a 4-year-old.

He loves working crosswords -- either a kid crossword book or just writing in the letters that my mom tells him to in the newspaper puzzle.

He can even read! Seriously. I mean, it's not David Copperfield (thanks for that visual, Erin), but he can read the BOB books and sounds out words in other books all the time. I've caught him reading to his little brother, and I thought I would explode from warm fuzzies right then and there.

Ugh, I know. I'm so annoying. I'm just so stinkin' proud of that sweet little boy, who always holds the door open for me and who loves so deeply and occasionally actually cries adorable little tears of joy. I am so excited to see what magic age 4 brings.