Four year olds are challenging and hilarious. And luckily, cute. My youngest son recently turned four and I’m seeing so much maturity in him lately but he still seems so young to me…didn’t he just arrive in our lives? How is it possible that he’s about to start preschool and will be in (ack!) kindergarten this time next year?
I have some hilarious conversations with him. His name is Colin, but he has recently begun asking everybody to call him ‘Fire Colin’. I want to believe he is pretending to be a super hero, but based on the fact that I’ve heard him saying “my evil scheme is fire” I suspect he’s probably a villain. Frankly, it fits his personality a little better than a super hero would! This morning, we were talking about Tropical Storm Colin (which I find endlessly hilarious for some reason) and how it might come our direction.
Colin: But I’m Fire Colin, not Tropical Storm Colin.
Me: I know. I’m just telling you that this storm with wind and rain has the same name as you and it might come to us. You’re still Fire Colin!
C: What if the rain rains on me and puts my fire out? Then what will my name be?
M: I doubt your fire will go out, but if it does, you can just be Colin again. Colin’s pretty cool on his own, isn’t he?
C: (Thinking for a minute, stroking his chin and everything.) I guess. Or maybe I could be Storm Colin. Yeah, Storm Colin is cool and has lightning and thunder powers, too!
This is the point where I grabbed him up and smothered him with kisses. Because I love watching him imagine and think about things like this. It is undoubtedly one of the best parts of being a mom.
Just a moment ago, I laid Violet down to nap and heard Colin’s little voice coming from the bathroom next to her room so I went in to check on him. I whispered to him and asked him to talk quietly so that Violet could sleep.
C: But I’m pooping. And playing.
M: I understand, but please be quiet so your sister can take a nap.
C: But mommy, I am pooping.
M: OK. Please talk quietly if you need to talk.
C: Just go. Remember mommy? Privacy. (Meanwhile he is motioning at me with a very dismissive sort of wave.)
I have to remind him to give me privacy in the bathroom daily, so I guess he was feeling like he needed to remind me gently. When he came out, he reminded me again. “Mommy, you shouldn’t go in the bathroom if the door is shut. Knock first, OK? And wait until I say come in!” I can’t remember how many times I’ve told him this exact same information. He doesn’t remember to do it, but he sure remembered that a person in the bathroom should expect a little privacy!
I can’t believe that he’ll be in preschool from 8am to 2:30pm every day at the end of the month. What will I do without my little buddy? I know he needs it so that he’ll be ready for kindergarten next year, but I will miss him so much. These first four years have flown by and I am just not ready to give him up!
