Six

It's funny how we get used to telling people how old our children are.  In this case I wasn't quite ready to transition to the word "six".  I was still calling him a five-year-old this morning.  Now we are moving along to different departments at the department stores.  He is no longer considered a toddler, but a big boy.  Seeing him carry a big boy backpack as a kindergartener as opposed to the more kiddie one he had been packing around on his little back for three years of pre-k about killed me.  My chubby baby is gone.  He has changed so much in these last few years.  Despite the behavioral challenges, he has matured.  His features are more defined, his personality has changed, and he's growing tall and thinning out.  He has also become very independent.  He wants to do everything on his own.  And I mean, everything.  He is still trying to find more and more of that independence as he grows.  He is still stuck on playing the 'monkey see, monkey do' thing with his older brother.  He really looks up to him as a hero.  He doesn't believe in, "I'm too small to do this or that."  I call it The Chihuahua Complex.  He's still small but thinks he can take on the world, no matter what comes his way.  This makes sense because he has always been so strong and extremely brave.  Happy Birthday, Herculiam!  Six is a wonderful age, and we know you will do great things.  God knew exactly what he was doing when he gave us you.

Before we left, I had to let him play for a bit since he had done such a good job of listening.  There's nothing sweeter than a boy getting sweaty and dirty at a play park.