Almost Four

Liam -

Tonight we had such a lovely time. Just you and me. It was inspiring and fun and silly and so what we both needed right now (I think).

First, you had your haircut, which typically does not rank among your best moments, but we visited a fun new kid's place and you hopped right into that vintage fire truck and let the nice lady clip and trim your hair (with actual clippers..*gasp*) with only a few reminders to keep your head up and your shoulders down and with absolutely no tears. For real. When it came time to leave, you were able to choose a prize from the treasure chest by the door. Out of all the choices you had...dinosaurs, Spidey stickers, eye patches...you chose a beautiful green bejeweled ring. "Look mommy", you said turning to me, "now I have beautiful jewelry too". Indeed.

Our next stop was Burgerville where you were absolutely certain you were going to order for yourself , "a cheeseburger, please, with milk", but when it came time to walk the walk, you got a little shy. So I took care of your order, and mine (sweet potato fries and a Diet Coke, thank you very much) and we scouted out a table. As luck would have it, we wandered by the jukebox. Seriously, I thought you were going to lose your mechanical little mind you were so completely blown away by it. The bubbles floating up the sides ("that's the hot lava, mommy, it prolly makes the engine go"), the buttons that flip the song menus, and the arm, oh my good lord, the arm that picks up the CD that has just played, puts it back on the rack and chooses another CD to lay on the turn table. It was all I could do to tear you away to come and eat. You continued to visit the jukebox between bites of burger and all that random button pushing was providing the other diners with quite an interesting array of musical genres. At one point in time, "Boogie Nights" by Heatwave came on and my sweet boy, it was clearly your siren song. You started bouncing, then moved to spinning and threw in a hop or two for good measure. You were seriously giving this guy a run for his money. And then you beckoned to me and there we were, the two of us, getting our groove on right there in the middle of the dining room. It was awesome.

Our last stop was to the store to find you a new pair of rain boots. Tis already the season here in Oregon. You really, really wanted galoshes in the style of "fireman boots" (of course) and I was really unsure if we were going to be able to find your hearts desire. But we went anyway and at best I was hoping that you would find something that would serve as a suitable replacement. We found racks upon racks of boots and upon first glance I did not see what you were hoping for. As I began pulling down a red pair that looked sort of firefighter-y, I heard you exclaim "there they are...!!!" I looked wear you were pointing and there on the tippy top shelf among the dinosaur and monster truck varieties was a single pair of shiny black and yellow rain boots. The exact boots you have been coveting for months now. A miracle (sort of). I shimmied up the lowers shelves and grabbed the boots all the while quietly wishing and hoping that they would be the right size. They weren't. They were way way too big. But when I looked up again I saw that there was one more pair up there, hiding itself behind all of it's jolly red friends. I shimmied again and grabbed them and saw they were a Toddler size 11. My heart sunk. No way were those elevens going to fit you. But we tried them on and guess what? Perfect fit. An eleven. My child, you wear an eleven. Your feet are huge. And you are thrilled. Elated. Over the moon. Me too.

Then we went home. And you stomped in some puddles and ran through our soggy front yard and sang some sweet little songs and it was a wonderful way to say goodnight. It was also past your bedtime and I knew at some point things would all come crashing down around us (and they eventually did), but I was glad for those last moments of the day, to share your bliss and bask in your energy.

We have had a rough few months, you and I. Change is hard. Being three years old has probably been pretty hard too. I know it hasn't been a stellar year for your momma, I can tell you that. But here you are....almost four. And here we are, having a lovely night. You are remarkable. And we are okay.

There are times this year that I felt we had lost our way. Feared that we somehow wouldn't find our way back. But what I learned tonight is that we have weathered this storm just fine. We're still quite a team, Pickle. And I love you, heart and soul.

XOXOX,

Momma