Life with a 4-year-old stage

Living with a 4 year old is truly an experience in itself. The daily commentary is priceless and more entertaining than trying to figure out the finale of Lost. Our little man’s mind seems to be full of profound insights, which he chooses to share with his devoted parents on a daily basis. I thought I would share a few with you.

While minding my own business and preparing our supper one evening, my delightful child decided to inform me that I was “lame.” “Lame, do you even know what that word means?” I said. “Mommy, lame means that you are just silly.” Okay, I can live with that, but I did proceed to tell him that lame was not necessarily a good word to use when describing someone. Words learned from the after-schoolers at Meme’s house come tumbling out of his 4-year-old mouth on a weekly basis once school starts and that’s okay; it’s up to us as his parents to let him know what is acceptable and what isn’t.

Another lovely observation by my beloved offspring was presented to me just this morning. While sitting on the couch having a rare, I mean rare, snuggle session he looks up at me and says, “Mommy, why do you look so old?” Really? I have yet to turn 30 and here my child is telling me that I look old; great, what is he going to say 10 years from now? “Honey” I said, “What makes me look old?” “Just look at yourself, Mommy,” he delivers innocently. Immediately, I am suspicious as to whether Daddy has put him up to this, but, alas, that was not the case, and apparently my beautiful child just thinks I look old. Oh well.

As stated above, snuggling and a 4-year-old boy just don’t go together. Thankfully, my little sweet and spice and everything nice is a very cuddly baby, so I get my fix from her. However, every once in awhile, I have to bribe the boy to come give me a hug and kiss. When begging for some attention (that would be me), he reluctantly walks over and will place is hand over my mouth and kiss his hand. Seriously? I apparently now have cooties, or some Mommy version of them anyway. And when I really beg and he gives in, he gives me a quick little peck on the cheek and runs off stating, “I’m all out of kisses, Mommy.” “Well how do you get more kisses?” I ask. “They grow in my teeth and then jump to my lips.” Oh, well, I guess I should have known that. Next thing you know, he will be telling me that I will never have a kiss again if we brush his teeth because we will brush all the kisses away. (Sigh) My sweet, sweet boy, oh where did you go?

I know where he went: He got sucked into some alternate universe filled with Animal Planet, Transformers, Cars, Legos, National Geographics and just all-around little boyhood. No time to be kissed and cuddled by Mommy, and watch out if I actually attempt to show some affection in public. I don’t know why this surprises me; I knew it would happen at some point. I just didn’t realize it would be this soon. So, in the meantime, I’ll just steal kisses from him after he’s asleep and then he can grow some more in his teeth the next day.


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