Presley, my sweet sweet little Presley. Today you are four years old. I can't believe that four years ago,
this amazing woman delivered you in the wee hours of the morning. That experience is as fresh as if it were yesterday. I remember holding you as a tiny infant, almost feeling panicked because you were so perfect and I was so scared it could not possibly get any better. But it HAS gotten better. Every day.
This is you at four years old.
A bit of an
insomniac. You inherited that gene from my side of the family, because it definetly does not exist on the Robinson side. Sorry about that. Your midnight visits have become common, no matter how hard we fight them. But allow me to let you in on a little secret. I don't battle them as much as I could. Just this week, I heard you quietly creeping into our room with your crazy messy hair clutching your froggie blanket and pink puppies and when I called your name, you answered with a whisper "I love you." So I continue to let you in our bed. And continue to get sub standard sleep because of it. You are not a still sleeper and getting kicked in my back is common. Your visits are not good for my spine. But they are good for my soul. And I'll take that.
A
Lover- probably the most affectionate of your siblings. Yesterday you told me you were married to Jude and that Kaylee was your girlfriend. You come into my office at least once per day just to tell me you love me and it is often punctuated by the words 'SO bad!" as in "Mommy, I love you SO BAD."
Picky, picky, picky. Presley, you drive me crazy sometimes. I have given up trying to dress you. I will let you wear whatever you want as long as its weather appropriate. But the morning battles continue as you try to figure out what to wear. This wasn't supposed to happen until you were a teenager. Can you please just let Mommy dress you every once in a while (maybe once a month?) without a full out battle? The other days- your polka dot/stripes/flowered/layered mismatch of clothing is fine. And another thing. That Beatles Tshirt I got you IS pretty cool- I admit it. But not 5 out of 7 days per week and not after you have dug it out of the dirty clothes. Can we limit it to 1-2 times per week and only after it has been washed?
Perhaps
a little OCD (take after your dad in this department, not me!). You want your water with ice and God forbid I get it from the tap or an all out meltdown ensues. Only filtered water from the refrigerator is appropriate for you.
Shy. Much, much, much more shy than the rest. You don't take well to new people or new situations. It was tough sending you to Preschool those first few weeks when you hid and wrapped yourself around our legs and screamed. Much different than Emily and Kaylee who were all "See ya!" as scampered off into their classrooms. Thankfully you seem to like it now.
Although you are not my oldest, you were MY first born and the one that originally made me a mother. And you cannot possibly understand what that means until it happens to you one day.
Happy Fourth Birthday Presley.
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