Five

My dearest Isaac,

I’m sitting on the couch, typing away while Adelia plays at my feet. Isaias is taking a nap, and Ella is still having a quiet time in her room. You, my new five-year-old, have barricaded yourself into a corner of the living room~ behind three folding chairs left out from our party yesterday~ so that you can play Legos without Adelia trying to play with you. You’re wearing your Bettis jersey- your shirt of choice, even though you outgrew it over a year ago. Also those black shorts which mama would love to lose. :)

You are doing a variation of humming and singing- a few songs I’ve recognized [Rise & Shine, The British Isles (from our Geography Songs CD), and Get Rhythm], along with a whole bunch of made up songs and lyrics. You always have a song on your lips.

You’re in the process of building your Lego City set for the second time since you opened that gift yesterday afternoon. When I first walked into the living room after my nap with Adelia, you were in tears because you thought you’d lost a piece. “It was right here in this pile. But now it’s not here, and I can't find it anywhere.” I picked up your little Lego instruction booklet and there it was, the little orange piece you were missing. You promptly told me, “I think that was a miracle! Because I had already picked up that booklet and it wasn’t there. It wasn’t. Don’t you think that was a miracle? I’ll bet it was in some spot that God knew I wasn’t going to ever find it and so he just slipped it right under there for me.”

How I love you, my son. You are such a delight. You bring such joy and laughter into our family! [God sure knew what He was doing when He put the name Isaac onto our hearts when I was pregnant with you!]

You are an affectionate boy, budders, and this mama loves that quality in you. You love to be in my lap, or snuggled up right beside me. You are quick to give hugs and kisses, to reach for my hand when we're walking, and to say “I love you.” You are also tender and comforting when I’m sad- or when anyone else is hurt or sad. Thank you, my sweet boy. I am so grateful for your sweet spirit.

This was the year of your “What if...?” questions. Goodness, son! You want to know every possible outcome of everything on earth. Your daddy and I have to laugh at the amount of times you will ask it. And then, when we respond, you tackle another angle: “But what if...?”

You love Legos, football, puzzles, books, mazes, and constructing just about anything. You love to be outside, riding your bike or digging in the dirt. You love it when we go to the beach so you can play in the water. You love to catch bugs or worms in the yard, which then you want me to find a container for, to house your new little friend in. I remember once this summer you came in, asking for a tupperware for your newest find- a big black beetle- and I pulled out one of our cheap plastic cups with lids, and on top of the lid I had previously written “Lemon Glaze”, to label it’s contents for the fridge. I gave it to you, offering you an explanation for the writing on top, and assuming you’d ask for another lid. Instead, your eyes lit up, and you happily said, “Yeah! Because his name is Lemon Glaze! That’s his name!” [I’m still not sure if you thought I’d named your beetle for you and had already written the name on the lid, or if you just happened to think Lemon Glaze was the perfect name for your pet beetle, but you were beyond thrilled, and for the rest of that beetle’s life, his name was Lemon Glaze.] You make me laugh, sweet boy.


You love being daddy’s helper. Last week daddy asked you to take out the garbage for him while he was at work. You grew a full three inches at that request, and you happily went to every garbage in the house, emptying them. I offered my help, as did Ella- we thought you might need help upending the garbages into the big trash bag. But you wanted to do it all by yourself. [Nevermind that I discovered you leaning over the garbage, picking out each item by hand in order to get the job done.] You happily hauled that huge (and heavy!) trash bag all throughout the house, standing so tall and proud when you told me you’d emptied every garbage. I asked you to set it on the back porch like daddy had asked, so that he could take it out right when he got home. But you wanted to carry it all the way out, all by yourself (which took a full twenty minutes with a rest needed every two to three shuffling steps, and a little help from mama and Ella in heaving it into the big garbage can) but you did it. And oh, was daddy proud when he got home!

You love to play. Your play follows you wherever you go- at the table, in the van- wherever you happen to be- because you have such an imagination! It’s why it takes you so long to do things, because you make up a story or a scene while you go and play it out or talk it through, burying yourself in your own little world. This past year you have been a Knight, a Cowboy, a Viking, a Pirate, a football player, a basketball player, a Revolutionary War soldier. You’ve also been Jack (Laura’s dog), Almanzo, and Pa. I love to listen to you play, Isaac. You have so much fun.

You have sure grown in knowledge this year. You take in so much of what we read and incorporate that into your play. We hear a lot of talk about the colonists and the British and Abraham Lincoln, and specific battles fought. You have your facts absolutely straight, and I am often amazed at what you’ve retained through our library reads.

You are a talker, my boy. There is always a story to tell, a memory to relate, a question to ask, a hypothesis to share.

You are a fine gentleman, Isaac- remembering to let “ladies go first”, running to pick something up that Ella dropped or that mommy dropped (usually in the kitchen), even being the first at the scene to clean up if something has been spilled.

You are the first one to compliment me or your sisters on looks or clothes. “Mommy! That is the prettiest shirt I ever saw!”, or “Adelia looks so adorable today!” You are also ready with a compliment every single time a meal is in front of you. “Mommy! This is my favorite meal EVER!” Or, “This is just scrumptious! And gorgeous!” You will make your wife feel very loved and appreciated some day, my little man.

And so, another year has passed. It’s been five whole years since God gave us our second miracle in the gift of you, our son. And it has truly been five years of joy. I can’t wait to see what this next year will bring.

I love you, my sweetest budders.

~Your mommy