So, tomorrow you turn four years old. It's been a ride with you, you know. You have added to my already impressive collection of gray hairs during the last couple of years.
I say without hesitation that you may be the most interesting person I've ever known. You are truly an individual. I'm sure it will be an issue in your future, but take my word for it - the world needs a few oddballs.
Your quick wit and fierce intelligence frustrate your sister even more than your parents. Sometimes you just flat-out baffle her. You are a thinker, and she doesn't really have time for things like that. I didn't really expect it, but I think you've managed to be the catalyst for her in a lot of matters of learning. I don't think she would be trying to learn to tell time if you hadn't figured it out first. Also, I'm pretty sure you read disturbingly well. I think you have been able to do so for several months, but for some reason you prefer not to let the cat out of the bag. Last summer, you asked your mom if she had finished reading the novel 'The Blue Nowhere.' You asked her by title, and she knows you had not been told the title of the book. It's scary, A. Really scary.
You spent a couple of years honing your verbal skills before you could be bothered to learn how to move your body to navigate this world. Up until just a few months ago, you preferred to be carried, you would lean or prop against anything instead of standing. You have had a pretty good share of accidents that have nearly given your mom heart failure. You burned your hands badly on the fireplace when you were just learning to walk. You've bashed your head into so many things that I have threatened to permanently put a helmet on you. Then there's the tooth. Your poor tooth. It finally surrendered this October after at least 4 major collisions. Thankfully, you seem to be gaining the upper hand on gravity.
But what you have lacked in coordination you have more than made up for in an unsettling level of eloquence. You talk a lot. Constantly, really. The practicing has made you extremely articulate. It was about six months ago that you asked so many questions that your mom finally asked you to be quiet for a few minutes. You replied "But mom, I'm just being inquisitive." I don't know that there are too many 3 year olds who can use the word inquisitive in a sentence. Your mom and I have both been overwhelmed at times by the amount of your talking. It's such a constant presence that we liken it to a loud mechanical drone which sometimes makes it difficult to concentrate. We've done some pretty stupid things because we can't keep our train of thought on the rails while your monologue continues.
You were the most easygoing baby. You slept well, you ate well, you hardly cried at all. This was especially good for your mom, because I was gone for most of your first six months. When you were about a year and a half old, you got to be more assertive. Since then, you have been HIGHLY opinionated. It's been a struggle at times, but we've all managed. I don't think that you complain as much as you used to, but I would estimate that you voice your displeasure over something at least every 5 minutes.
You are also a homebody. That's something I can easily identify with. You don't like to leave the house for anything, no matter how cool or exciting it might be. It's okay. Most of the time, I don't either.
Your eating habits have been a challenge for us too. You don't really like to eat meals, only snacks. And you have interesting taste in food. You like the sweet. You like the grease. We once watched you dip a Frito in the whipped cream filling of a Ding Dong snack cake. That's just wrong.
It's going to be very interesting to watch you develop over the next few years. I couldn't tell you how many times your preschool teachers or parents of your classmates have remarked about how much they like you. You are a charmer, despite yourself. You're an amazing little person, and as much as I complain about your quirks, I sincerely hope you don't change.
