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Happy 4th Birthday Hoss!

Hoss,

Today at 6:11p.m. you will officially be a 4 year old. I don’t know what has happened to the time. It seems like yesterday that your 10 pound 5 ounce body was pulled (via c-section, thankfully!) from my body. You are growing up to be a big boy and I cherish every minute.

This year you started pre-school. You don’t talk much about school and I usually have to drag every single detail out of you, but you seem to enjoy spending time with other kids your age. You have also blossomed socially. Even though you are still shy and quiet, you are now answering more questions from others and are initiating conversations.

You love playing with your action figures and wrestlers, just like you did a year ago. However, now you want to know what every person’s name is and what they say. You require a catch phrase for every toy you have. But it doesn’t stop there, each of your closest friends and family have a catch phrase as well. I still chuckle when you tell people Mommy says “Now What!”

I believe you may be a bit spoiled and I have no idea how that happened. You seem to think that crying and screaming will get you your way and even though I tell you every. single. time. crying and screaming get you nothing, you still try it again. This is going to make four a lot of fun, isn’t it?

I don’t like when I have to scold you, mostly because you like to make a sad face and it melts my heart. I try to put an iron shield around my heart and stick with it, but you sure do know how to manipulate a woman’s heart. I’m sure the blue eyes and bright red hair may have something to do with that charm.

You are definitely a Daddy’s Boy. If Daddy likes it, you do too. You have always been a picky eater, like Daddy, but if Daddy is willing to eat it, you are willing to try it. You have developed a love for fish and peanuts, two things Mommy doesn’t like. And you have made your Daddy proud as you chow down on your fried chicken legs. But how dare Mommy try to get you to eat a yummy cinnamon roll. You would rather starve.

You are living up to your nickname, Hoss. You continue to grow like a weed and most people look at me like I’m crazy when I would tell them you were only three. I probably have another few months of telling them you are four before they will begin to think I’m crazy again. Most people assume you are five or older. As you stood beside me the other day I noticed that your head was even with my ribs. At this rate you will be taller than your 5’7” mother when you are in 3rd grade! Slow down, kiddo!

Probably your biggest accomplishment of the year was becoming fully potty trained! I can’t even express how thrilling that was for me. The process is not one I want to repeat, but we got there. Now you just need to figure out how to button and zip your pants and we’ll be in business.

I love you more than I can ever show you! You make me proud to call you my son. I can’t wait to see what this coming year brings – as long as screaming and whining are not involved!

I love you Bubba,

Mommy

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