Saturday, October 11, 2014

Cruz, On Your Last Day As Three

To my sweet, independent, funny, free spirited little boy who's not so little anymore.  

Tomorrow you are four.  And you are getting so big and acting so old and reminding me every day that you are no longer that wispy white-blond haired little boy with rosy cheeks and short little legs.  That solid little linebacker who would nestle your head on my shoulder and rub my back when you were sleepy, and stand at the top of the stairs with your blankie and call "dah-ee" when you woke up in the morning.  No, now, you insist on zipping up your coat in the morning all by yourself, even if it takes ten minutes, and rarely bat an eye when we drop you off at school.  You sometimes hold my hand, but prefer to go at your own pace, usually twenty steps ahead or thirty steps behind.  You have always, always marched to the beat of your own drum, moved at your very own pace, and not let much affect you.  We admire and love that about you.

There is much to love about who you are on this night before you turn four.  I love the way you write your name, the way you always write your 'U' upside down, but immediately acknowledge it by turning your paper upside down and saying, "see, when I turn it like this, it looks right."  I love the way your tongue sticks out when you concentrate on something really hard and that Ms. Dana tells me you have the best imagination.  You are so nonchalant about your school day, I can hardly get anything out of you, but when we visit your classroom for your open house, you explain your entire room with details I never dreamed you would pick up on.  I love that you are utterly unconcerned with impressing others or telling what you know, but will leave us dumbfounded when you spout off something we had no idea you knew.  Like the other day on the way to school when we said your birthday was in three days and you replied, "not Thursday, Friday, Saturday, but Sunday."

I love that you request "warm hot cocoa" before bed a few times each week.  While it may have started as an approach to buy you a few more minutes before bedtime, it's evolved into a sweet little ritual I secretly love.  We usually have the best chats as we stir our warm milk and dunk marshmallows with our spoons.

I love that after you opened nearly every birthday present today, you responded with an "Are you kidding me?"  I love how excited you were to finally have the official Frozen soundtrack in one of your packages and how fun it was to listen to the songs on the way to the pumpkin patch this morning.  You know all the actions and all the words to Let It Go, and Olaf is your favorite.  Sometimes, you tell me you played Frozen with your friends at school and Lincoln is Sven and you are Olaf.  You giggle and tell me you say "Where's my butt" just like him! 

I love that you would much rather play pretend Ninja Turtles with mom or dad at the playground than play with the other kids there, and that I am always April O'Neil and Dad is always Splinter, or "Sensei."  I love that you adore your superheros, but are fearful of the Joker, Shredder, and some of the other super villains.  I love that you asked me to hold your hand as we made our way through the corn maze today and that you wanted to run through parts with "scary things."  

I love that the way you mosey on down to our bed in the middle of the night, always with one, or three, stuffed animals to join as you crawl in bed with us.  You typically bring with you whomever you fell asleep with that night - Olaf, Big Brother Bear, and Pete the Cat, but by the middle of the week, you go perusing your room for a new stuffed animal to take along with you.  You don't come empty handed, and by the end of the week, our bed is quite full!

I love the way you say certain words.  As much as we correct you, "pause" is "cause" in your world, and you ask us to "cause my cartoons" every morning on the way out the door to school.  You call McDonalds, "Old McDonalds" and you have proved to be quite good at throwing a "crisbee" outside.  Lately, you love watching Scooby Doopy Doo before school and you enunciate the word actually better than anyone I know.  And you say it quite frequently.

I love it all, Cruz.  The stubborn, strong-willed little boy who knows what he wants and wants to do it all by himself.  The bed-headed boy who tiptoes in our room in the middle of the night, every night as of late.  I think you are the coolest, most unique, and funniest little soul on this side of the universe.  I still get lost in those big brown eyes of yours at least three times every day and when I kiss your soft cheeks, I remember kissing you as a baby.  Four years ago, I became a mama and my heart changed forever.  Thank you for filling my world with more love and more fun than I could ever dream.  

Happy Birthday, sweet bub.  I love you more than you will ever know.



  1. Happy birthday Cruz man! I couldn't help but smile at several of these, remembering why Cruz and Harper became fast first friends. She calls McDonalds, Old McDonalds, cannot get enough of the word actually, and thinks it's absolutely hilarious to use olaf's most famous line. A very happy birthday Cruz...and a happy birthday to mama too! Xoxo from your friends in Pella

  2. Happy Birthday Sweet Boy!! We had lots of fun celebrating you turning 4 years old! You amaze us & make us smile!! We so love being your Papa & Grandma!!



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