Life. In fast FOURward.

Belated post:
I am still trying to wrap my head around the fact that our sweet boy is  

four.

I feel as though we are living life in fast forward.

I talk to him all the time about all the things he used to do when he was little [r].

He gets this goofy little smile and just listens to my stories of his younger days, and then will tell me later, "remember when I used to do this..."

He is amazing.
So smart.
So full of imagination.
And he has a great heart.

He loves his sisters.
And his momma.
And he wants to be just like his daddy.

He can be referred to as Batman.
Spiderman.
Or the Joker, on any given day.
As he climbs the walls, and the stairs.
Builds toy guns with his Knex.
And jumps around saying he is getting the bad guys.

I adore the way he wakes up. Thumping, bumping down the stairs.
And how he falls asleep. With requests for a book to be read, and to end with prayers, and a tickle fest. Every time.
I love the way he smiles. Especially when I have made him mad and he tries to hide the fact that I can still make him laugh.
And how he loves to wrestle. Even if I end up with a fat lip and a crushed rib. {which by the way has never happened, but it has sure felt like it the couple of times he has pile driven me with his head while wrestling on the floor}

I love that his daily menu is very plain. And often the same. Even if I have to force feed him things such as chicken off the grill, or brats, spaghetti. You know normal childrens food. {If it were up to him he would only eat Ramen noodles. Turkey sandwiches. Cereal. Pizza. Strawberries and Raspberries. Candy. Popsicles. And Taco Bell.}

I love that he has no fear. But it scares me... that he has no fear.
He is all boy.

Dirty.
Rugged.
And has stinky feet!
{already}
I love that he is my little fish. He loves to swim. And will just jump right in to any pool or lake. And then keep jumping in, no matter if his lips are turning blue, or the sun has gone down twenty minutes ago.
He loves to go fishing, even if he doesn't catch a thing except weeds.
He loves to golf, and play his Johnny Tincaps baseball.

He likes to help me bake. His favorite is cookies. Just so he can sneak a huge bite of dough when I am preparing the cookie sheet with parchment paper.

He is really good at counting. And can identify almost any number. Often calling them out as we drive.
He has written his name since he was three.

I am so very proud of who he is. And who I know he will be as he continues to get older.
Because this boy loves Jesus. And isn't afraid to let the whole world know it.
He recites his dinner prayer with minimal reminding, and will repeat after me with night time prayers.

He is my angel.
My superhero.
My boy.

I cannot lie when I say, that I am going miss the three hours a day Monday, Wednesday, and Friday this year when he goes to school. I already feel a little empty knowing he won't be around. Just making noise.
Starting petty fights with sis. And asking me for some breakfast and lunch. Or a snack.

But I am bracing for a year of new adventures for him. New friends. New experiences. New memories.
And that is something, I truly look forward to.

Happy Birthday, Nolan!

Your momma loves you.