My stinky little dude is five, today.
He's the life of the party.
His favorite color is pink.
He loves kitties and puppies.
He calls all meat chicken and loves to eat it with barbecue sauce.
He's been able to ride a bike without training wheels for some time, now; better than he was ever able to ride it with them.
He's not so scared of things, anymore. (He used to be afraid of the night sky and water.)
He doesn't like heights, but he's getting braver.
He's good at making people laugh with things he says.
I haven't met someone, yet, who doesn't get a kick outta this kid.
I've been blessed with a keen awareness that his little won't last very long. I can still hold my "little ball of boy" and he still "loves me so much".
But, he's five, today.
He's all registered for kindergarten and has had (and hated) his shots.
He doesn't like to wear shoes with socks, like his mom.
He has a super kind heart and will share with anyone.
He still sees things that bigger people don't have time to notice.
He's always more than happy to "have the rest" of whatever it is you're eating or drinking.
He still loves his soft blankies - the ones we used as burp cloths. He was so pukey, he attached to them because we always had them when we had him.
He loves to make people notes and stick them in envelopes.
He still gets excited about stickers and play-doh and bunnies in the backyard.
He loves whatever music his sister loves, and whatever computer games his brothers love.
Oh, he's such a sweet little boy.
And he's five.
Slow down, time.
