Sunday, November 11, 2007
Happy Birthday, Elijah.
You are four today. Wow. I can't believe it. Actually. At about 10:39 tonight, it will be four years that you have been causing some kind of havoc around here. I'm keeping track of the minutes . . . because as I've already told you this morning, once 10:39 comes around, you can't pee on the damn floor anymore. Because for God's sakes, you will be FOUR!! Cut it out already!
It looks like I really put the "glow" on this picture. You see, I'm trying to make you look more angelic than you really are. When I look back someday on these pictures, I want to think of you as my angel. When in truth, I'm trying to forget all of the curse words that I've used in reference to you.
Truly, I love you.
But, in so many ways, you have been more work than I thought a second child would entail. So much so, that when I've seen other mothers have to wrestle their second child who happens to be a male child behind the firstborn female child, I've been able to stop the exasperated mother and encourage her in her struggle. It's my ministry, I think. Then, I usually walk away with a smile and I think of you. And, I think how glad I am that you are in preschool and I'm heading off to work.
And, wow about preschool. You seem to like it. From the information that I've been able to pry from you, you do seem to be doing well. But, the other day, when I watched you smile as your teacher opened the door to welcome you into class. I realized why you are adjusting so well. I remembered that you like blond women . . . so thank God for that. I do hope that you won't be too disappointed in Kindergarten. Since I can't guarantee blond teachers from here on out . . . I guess we will cross that bridge another time.
Well, Baby, Happy Birthday! Lots of love to you. Be sure to love me too though . . . because I don't want to have to kick your ass out once you turn eighteen. I told you the other day that I would do it . . . so just don't try me, Baby.