You dont know it yet, but the next time yr eyes open, you are four.
To us, most days, you are our first born. We dont remember now really, when u first walked. Tho u neither turned nor crawled. We know yr first word was duck. we dont know when or where u picked up words or letters but i always rem your first taste of english soil. N dried leaves. Literally.
I remember loving winter walks. Until the mmt i discovered yr socks fell off n i started crying n counting yr toes before i realise if its frostbitten it might drop off as i count them n then i didnt know what to do.
we always rem what made (and makes) you laugh. U eating flowers as a tottering 1 yr old. love walking ard flowers so carefully as a 2 yr old. Love plucking them when u turned 3. Almost 4, u now pluck them relentlessly n feed them to yr little brother.
Yet now that you are four. (Almost), Increasingly, as u run off shouting in yr imaginary races, yr dad n i do this instinctive catch-the-eye promise.
You, our first born, are born free. And it is a big world to be exactly that. We try to remember that. Dreams, little boys and laughter, need space. Stars in the dark skies.
We celebrate you. We celebrate Your womderful normalness. yr days. If 4 chpater yrs was a prelude. It will be Filled with roudy laughters. quiet sadness. Loud tears. Mistakes. defeats. Integrity. Misunderstoods and misunderstanding. Spilled milk. Pain. Hope. Missing toys. Faith.
And always. Love.
We cant fix many things. Except maybe disjointed transformers toys. But not Yr disappointements. Nor fight yr fights. Nor live up to expectations. (i wil always rem yr teacher asking me when u turned 3. Why does dan say “life is not fair but its ok” when yr friend fell down) and this is a hard world. U asked when i would die. Just like the patients i see. N i said i didnt know. And you said “that is a terrible answer. Mama u promise you will be there every morning ok?” And you started crying as u promised u will buy me medicine.
My heart died a bit tt night as it also grew so much from yr not -little -at -all understanding of life, love and loss.
You are older now. You cried as you fret over about how chickens will walk since u discovered that people eat chicken legs. You rationalised that the venus fly trap needs food so u patiently squat for flies n ants who are “not animals cos there is no blood!” U try to make sense of a mad mad world while lying on grassy grass. (Why do u call grass grassy? Because nothing else is grassier than grass mama)
Come morning, as u jump off your bed into ours again, you remain a noisy reminder, what a gift this just-another-thusday is. And we are so so glad you are here. Because. Mama knows. Deep down. I can never work hard enough nor do enough or be good enough to deserve this bit of 94cm almost 15kg.
Sleep well. Dream lots. Hold tight.
Our little almost 4 year old.
tree kids in this season 
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