Today you turn 4, Big Fella.
Four years ago it was pouring rain at 6 a.m. when your dad drove me to the hospital. You were born just a few hours later, at 12:50 p.m.
And oh, how our life changed.
We never had to worry about your appetite, though in the first four months you were a skinny little thing. So skinny, in fact, that the good doctor told us if you hadn’t adequately gained by six months, we’d have to look into supplemental measures.
So we just started feeding you whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. We fed you so much that sometimes this happened:
It worked, though! You grew and grew until you were quite a bruiser.
Then you started climbing. God help us.
The past year has been a brisk one for us. You’ve traveled all the way to Yellowstone National Park and everywhere in-between. You realized you’re not scared of fireworks. You talked your daddy into a cat.
But perhaps your biggest achievement (in your eyes) was learning to ride your bike without training wheels. At three. You call it your ‘balancing bike.’ I have to write that down because I’ll forget that someday without the reminder.
You also call umbrellas ‘gorillas.’ Personally, I think holding a gorilla over your head to shelter yourself from the rain would be a lot more creative.
The most fun thing for me this year is that you’ve sort of discovered a sense of time, so the days leading up to your birthday have been magnificent with anticipation.
These are the golden times.
Happy birthday, Ethan. We love you.